


The End of Chaos and the Beginning of Havoc

by MegumitheGreat



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Age of Chaos, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Armatization, Bad Ending, Dragons, Everyone else is not so tainted, Fallen!Mikleo, Fallen!Sorey, Hellions, I might change a few aspects as needed, I'm winging it, M/M, Masturbation, Seraphim, Side-Quest Spoilers, Spoilers, Tainted!AU, Tainted!Mikleo, Tainted!Sorey, There's little lore on malevolence, Trying not to make the story too rough, Yandere!Mikleo, inappropriate advancements, malevolence - Freeform, some semi-philosophical stuff later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 107,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegumitheGreat/pseuds/MegumitheGreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the bad ending and if Symonne corrupted Mikleo instead of trying to kill Rose.  Water is easily corrupted, and Mikleo is more precious than anyone else to Sorey.  But what would happen if Mikleo, tainted by malevolence, obsessed over Sorey?  There's some non-consensual stuff later on, and some philosophical stuff even further into the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Assume there are spoilers since this is based on the bad ending. Updates on this one will probably be on Thursdays?

Sorey, Rose, and the seraphim hurried to the hunting grounds southwest of Pendrago after discovering that Heldalf had moved locations thanks to their interfering at Glaivend Basin. Having just finished all of the trials, Sorey felt somewhat more prepared to take on the being of pure malevolence, but even with all of his powers coalescing and their resulting confluence radiating inside his bosom, Lailah still seemed uneasy. It didn’t help that her oath prevented her from talking about what was bothering her.

Crossing the sandy threshold from the Pearloats Pasture into Aifread’s Hunting Grounds, Sorey and Rose penetrated Heldalf’s domain. Unlike the domain that they had encountered before at the Great Camelot Bridge, however, this one didn’t disconnect the seraphim from them.

“He’s definitely here,” Rose said. She exchanged glances with Sorey. “We’d best be prepared.”

“Right,” Sorey agreed. He checked his equipment and ate one of the snacks that Lailah had prepared a few nights ago. “We’re going to end this today!”

The search for Heldalf in the hunting grounds started with some difficulty. The hellions in the domain were incredibly strong—stronger than they had been after Edna had received the augmentation of her power from Shepherd Pawan. Each skirmish with them required emergency care from Lailah and Mikleo, and their supplies were beginning to dwindle. The last merchant they saw was at the entrance of the hunting grounds, and he had told them to turn back considering that things just didn’t feel right to him. They politely told them that turning back was not an option, yet Lailah had sided somewhat with the merchant.

“Sorey, I can’t help but feel like that merchant was right. We’re still not ready,” Lailah carefully said.

“How can we not be ready? He’s caused enough trouble. So many people are suffering because of him and his malevolence. We’ve got to stop this,” Sorey protested. He pushed on, commanding Mikleo and Lailah back into his body once they had reached the junction before Morgause, the Shrine of the Earth Trial.

A booming voice thundered throughout the area. “Correct choice, Shepherd,” it said. Sorey and Rose stopped in their tracks, swiveling their heads looking for the man they had come to put down. Heldalf materialized from his cyclone of malevolence between them; the Shepherd and his Squire jumped back with their blades drawn. “A mighty clash should take place, but is there really any point to this? Purifying alone is not enough to quell the millions of hellions born each day; in other words, you are only prolonging the inevitable.” He sneered at the brunet.

“Sorey, don’t listen to him! He’s trying to—!” Lailah started. Heldalf’s malicious laughter drowned out her voice and forced her to materialize. “Sorey!”

“Come, Shepherd. Show me just how strong your belief is!” Heldalf roared. He swatted at his opponents.

Sorey summoned forth Mikleo while Rose called on Zaveid. Prioritizing distance seemed like a better idea, but at the same time, they had learned over their battles that hellions got more aggressive as they were pushed to the brink of death. Then again, the wind Armatization was good for close combat, and while Rose wasn’t exactly a tank herself, Zaveid was more capable of taking a punch. Her speed, though, was the key to getting him in close quarters combat.

Sorey launched a blue flurry of arrows knowing that they would do minimal damage. Heldalf was way out of their league after all. Chipping away at him was the only thing they could do. That is, if it was even possible to land a hit on him. Heldalf teleported across the battlefield, firing balls of water and fire at them. Occasionally he grabbed Rose out of the air and slammed her onto the ground.

“Damn, how are you holding up, Rosie girl?” Zaveid asked.

“Well, I’ve got the _wind_ knocked out of me,” Rose coughed. She got up and used a Rejuvenation Arte on herself. “How’s that for a pun?”

“You should leave them to Edna!”

Rose went in for an attack, activating Zaveid’s Mystic Arte Sylphistia. Blades of crystallized air rained from the blackened heavens, piercing through the swirling darkness that served as their enemy’s skin. The arte had stunned him momentarily which gave Sorey enough time to use a hidden arte to knock him back some distance before he activated Mikleo’s Mystic Arte Aqua Limit.

Heldalf bared his teeth; his lion nose crinkled up in frustration. Sorey and Rose switched Mikleo and Zaveid for Lailah and Edna respectively, and again they unleashed their Mystic Artes Flamberge and Earth Revolution to cleave his vitality. Sorey and Rose separated from Lailah and Edna, switching them for Mikleo and Zaveid.

“We’ve got him on the ropes,” Rose smirked.

“Even when things are going well, don’t let your guard down,” Mikleo warned.

“Some very adult advice there, Mikboy!” Zaveid teased.

“Alright, everyone, let’s finish this!” Sorey ordered.

All four of them charged at Heldalf. One after another, they unleashed their Mystic Artes against him, falling back when needed and subsequently charging back in to do more damage. Just as Heldalf was on his last legs, he summoned a seraph of his own. The fallen seraph Symonne appeared at his side with her bejeweled cropped wand and a devious smile.

“Symonne, you know what to do. Get rid of the pests,” he growled.

“Why, certainly,” Symonne happily said. She leapt into the air and ejected a ball of malevolence from the tip of her wand. It knocked back everyone except the Shepherd and his Prime Lord. Rose and the Sub-lords were encased in the malevolence, steeping in it like tea bags in pitchers. Mikleo, Edna, and Zaveid writhed in pain as Rose did her best to keep her hopefulness close to her heart. “Oops, looks like you guys are on the ropes now.” Symonne cackled at them.

“What are you going to do now, esteemed Shepherd? If you don’t free your pawns, they’ll be tainted. If you don’t finish me off, then I will escape.”

Lailah glanced at Sorey, whom was caught between saving his friends and ending the source of the malevolence once and for all. It pained her to see him trapped, but by her oath, she couldn’t tell him what to do. She instead prepared to attack Symonne, but she was too slow. The fallen seraph teleported behind the weakened fire seraph just as she finished one of her artes. She kicked her down and towards Heldalf, giggling out, “Dinner is served.”

“Lailah!” Sorey called out as Heldalf pinned her down with his massive foot. He pulled Sorey closer and grabbed him by the neck. Lifting him into the air, the lion-headed hellion just stared into his fearful green eyes. It was a fresh new fear that he had never seen in any Shepherd. It was a fear caused by the exact opposite of what the Shepherd stood for. It was fear from falling into despair. “Let go of them!”

“Struggle as much as you wish, Shepherd. Struggle just as you try to purify each hellion, as you try to rid the world of sin. All of them were for naught. I shall teach you what it means to become tainted,” Heldalf preached, his grip tightening just enough to make him cough.

Symonne released the captives once she was certain that they had been drained of their strength. Of all of them, she kept a hold on Mikleo. On Heldalf’s order, she established a link between him and herself then stabbed his chest with the jewel on her wand. The overflowing malevolence that corrupted her began to seep into Mikleo’s very core.

“This particular seraph is precious to you, isn’t he? His element seems to be water, and you know what happens to water, right? What would happen if he fell from his divine state? What would happen to the other seraphim that reside in your body as their vessel? What would happen to you and your Squire?” Symonne questioned. She severed the connection again on Heldalf’s order so Mikleo wouldn’t fall right away. “Looks like we’ll have to find out later!”

Zaveid and Edna woke up first feeling extremely fatigued. Heldalf threw Sorey down, removed his foot from Lailah, and stood before them. “Well, Shepherd? You came here to do a job. Strike me down like you wanted to! Or have you realized how futile it is to resist the evil that forever pollutes this world?”

Sorey looked at Mikleo’s wounded unconscious body. The despair was swallowing his heart, the rage blinding him, the hatred moving his body. He glared at Heldalf. He momentarily forgot his role. He could never forgive anyone who would hurt Mikleo. The Shepherd stood up despite protests from Lailah to retreat. With the Sacred Blade in his hands, Sorey unleashed his Mystic Arte, killing Heldalf and eradicating his domain. But something felt off to the seraphim. Heldalf…smiled.

Sorey rushed to his water seraph with tears in his eyes. Mikleo looked sick. No amount of shaking aroused him, yet his heart was still beating softly in his chest. “Lailah! Lailah, please, you’ve got to do something! You have to purify the malevolence!” he begged as he held Mikleo in his arms.

Zaveid looked at them with pity, but he knew that the Shepherd had been had. “Kid…she can’t do anything for him,” he gently said. The uncharacteristic way of speaking caught Sorey off-guard, forcing the Shepherd to curse. “Hey, if you let this get to you, we’ll become tainted, too!”

“I’m afraid it’s too late…” Lailah quietly responded. “We’re all tainted, Sorey.”

“What do you mean…?” Rose inquired as Edna helped her up. Her head was pounding. A bubble of nausea lodged itself in her throat. “What do you mean we’re tainted?”

Edna closed her umbrella. “When a Shepherd succumbs to the malevolence around him, he becomes tainted. The malevolence spreads like a poison throughout his seraphim, tainting them as well, and it can happen the opposite way. Either way in time, the seraphim end up as dragons and the Shepherd falls, resulting in a strong hellion. But I guess in the case of that happy-go-lucky bitch of a seraph, if a seraph can withstand the amount of malevolence and assimilates with it, the seraph can fall as well,” she explained. It wasn’t a good explanation since Lailah herself had limited information on the subject.

“What does that mean then? We all just twiddle our thumbs until we turn into hellions?” Rose pressed.

“No matter how you look at it, we’re just going to die. Man, I really know how to keep a promise,” Zaveid sighed, rubbing his neck in shame.

Lailah turned to Edna, her jade eyes quivering with tears. She had failed them. She knew that. She pleaded that they try to keep their emotions in check and to keep hope high. Perhaps there was a way to reverse the malevolence. At the very least she wanted to believe there was.

“We should return to Pendrago and rest. Our work here is done,” the fire seraph resolutely said. “Edna, Zaveid—whatever you do, do not merge into Sorey or Rose. We can’t afford to push the malevolence onto them.”

With affirming grunts, Zaveid took Mikleo off Sorey’s hands for the walk back to Pendrago. Sorey remained close by to keep an eye on the ailing water seraph while Rose, Edna, and Lailah talked amongst themselves about his condition. Both parties thus failed to notice the poison rain that had once stymied the growth of wheat in the fields had returned. Or perhaps, they didn’t care anymore.


	2. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heldalf has been killed, Symonne's hiding somewhere, and our heroes are feeling the effects of the malevolence. But will it put tension on their relationships?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Game's finished now, which may or may not have an influence on my ideas. And hopefully I don't make this story too sad (but when you get right down to it, the story is a dark one canonically). Spoilers for the Bad Ending and side-quests will be coming up.

“Why is the rain back?”

“We just had sun!”

“Our crops…they’re going to wither again…”

“What is the Shepherd doing?!”

“Did the Shepherd die?”

“The seraphim have forsaken us!”

Sorey and Rose arrived at the inn in Pendrago where the innkeeper asked them if they were okay. Having saved the city from starvation only weeks ago, Sorey and his friends were revered as unnamed heroes except for the few that had the opportunity to know him, so seeing them so disheveled was concerning. Sorey brushed off the question, rigidly asking for a room for the night. The innkeeper worriedly complied before putting in an order for two bowls of Drago Stew on the house. Sorey and Rose collapsed on their beds as the seraphim tried to find places in the room to get comfortable. Zaveid laid Mikleo next to Sorey, who thanked him for carrying him all the way from the hunting grounds as he turned to him with his head propped on his shoulder. The wind seraph knelt beside the bed to rest his head on his knees; the hat he got from Dezel sat next to him.

“The rain is back,” Edna stated.

“We know that,” Zaveid murmured.

“Do you think the plague in Marlind is back as well?” Lailah asked.

“The stealing must be off the charts in Ladylake,” Edna continued.

“W-What’s gotten into you two?” Zaveid asked.

Rose began to snore on the bed opposite to Sorey. Every once in a while, she woke with a coughing fit then went back to sleep. Sorey, on the other hand, simply watched Mikleo’s chest rise and drop with each labored breath.

“This is all my fault,” he whimpered. “I’ve gotten everyone tainted. I’ve undone our hard work. I was so stupid!”

“Sorey, if you dwell in guilt, we’ll fade faster,” Lailah cautioned.

“Would that really be so bad? It’s better than being nauseous and in pain,” Edna retorted. She suddenly began to talk about placing the blame on Mikleo. After all, he was the one that had to get picked by Symonne. If it weren’t for him, Sorey wouldn’t have lost himself in anger, right? He was always useless. He couldn’t fight properly with his staff, and his Artes were always so weak. “We should have dropped him somewhere and picked up a better water seraph.”

“That’s enough, Edna!” Sorey snarled at her. “Just be quiet!”

“Kid, keep your voice down. People can’t hear us! They’ll think you’ve gone crazy!” Zaveid chastised. Sorey apologized for yelling at her, and Edna reciprocated with reasoning that the recent events had put her on edge.

Within the next few seconds, Mikleo stirred. He turned towards Sorey, burying his face in his chest before peering up at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. “Sorey…?” he uttered with a hint of something in his voice.

“Sleeping Beauty finally woke up,” Zaveid chuckled.

Lailah averted her eyes. Mikleo had woken up, but was he really the same water seraph they had bonded with over the course of the journey? She remembered something that Zaveid had said when they first recruited him. A good way to understand a hellion is to match their physical size to their desires, burdens, and sins. She knew that the two of them were raised together, but there was also a chance that at somewhere and sometime ago Mikleo had developed deeper feelings for Sorey. If the malevolence had morphed those pure feelings of love into something else, would they be enough to destroy him? It would have been a good idea to leave him behind, but the bond between him and Sorey was too precious to the latter that it had the potential of causing everyone to turn into dragons right then and there.

“Mikleo? How do you feel?” Sorey gently asked him.

“I’m just fine…” the water seraph hushed. “You don’t look so good, though.” He sat up with his fingers pressed together. “I know! Let’s take a bath!”

Zaveid and Edna noticed it, too. Mikleo was different, even if slightly. He was typically lukewarm with Sorey so as not to show his more vulnerable side in front of the other seraphim. The fact that he was proposing a relaxing bath with an attitude akin to Lailah’s was odd to say the least. The water seraph took Sorey’s hand, gathered up the complimentary bath supplies offered by the inn, and walked down to the bathroom.

“Zaveid, go with them, please,” Lailah told him. “Mikleo had a direct bond to Symonne. The malevolence in him is pure, not residual like ours. I’m scared he might try to do something to Sorey.”

“You got it…bu-u-u-u-ut what’s my reward?” Zaveid snickered.

“Really, meathead?” Edna asked. She looked up from her arms which were cradling her throbbing head.

“Kidding! Just kidding!”

***

The bathtub was bigger in Pendrago’s inn than any other inn they had visited much to Mikleo’s dismay. He had hoped they’d be forced to sit closer so they could wash each other’s backs. Well, it wasn’t hard to ask Sorey to sit close, and he knew he wouldn’t be against it. But there was a certain allure _not_ asking and just doing as he pleased.

Mikleo got into the water first, going under and breaking the surface to push back his hair in a seductive way. Sorey got undressed then paused before getting into the water. “Mikleo, you left your circlet on. Give it to me. I’ll dry it off and put it with my clothes,” he offered with a smile.

“You’re too kind to me,” Mikleo cooed. He begrudgingly gave the circlet to his master— _master_? Yes, perhaps “master” would make Sorey feel more empowered, more confident to be with him. Once Sorey had put the circlet away, he joined Mikleo in the bathtub. “Finally!” Mikleo latched onto him, embracing him with his pale slender arms.

“A-Ah! Mikleo, what’s this about?” Sorey stammered.

“I thought I’d lost you to the malevolence! I was so scared!”

Mikleo began inching toward Sorey’s face with his lips parted just a tad for a kiss when Zaveid kicked open the door. “What’s up, my boyz! Emphasis on the ‘z’!” he greeted. Mikleo glared at him as he hurriedly separate from the object of his affection. He was so close to getting Sorey! “Oh, Mikboy is looking better already! Have you guys already started? Mind if I join?”

“Ye—”

“No, you can join us,” Sorey answered.

“Great! Man, after that battle with Heldalf, I really worked up a sweat! And a little one-on-one-on-one time with my two favorite kiddos in our little ragtag team never hurts!” Zaveid stepped into the bath after undressing and put his arm around Sorey’s shoulders.

Mikleo bit his tongue. If he tried to get Zaveid to leave, Sorey would be put off. All he could do was play nice for now. But playing nice was difficult when someone else placed their arm around the one you loved. Zaveid pulled Sorey over away from the frowning water seraph. It was like that poor excuse for a seraph was trying to show off in front of him.

“Hmmm? Mikleo, what’s with that sour look?” Zaveid laughed. Then he flashed him a knowing look. _Don’t do anything you’ll regret, boy_. The tension in the air rose, which caused Sorey to feel uncomfortable. “You are literally in your element, so buck up!”

“Well, I think I’m done with my bath. You two can have fun,” Mikleo sharply responded. He stomped out of the bath, got dressed, and left. He exited the inn to go to the residential area of the nobles’ district. The malevolent rain somewhat stung his skin, but as he strolled through it, the needlelike pain dissipated. All he could focus on was the fact that Zaveid had gotten in the way of his plan. He was going to make sure Sorey only belonged to him whether it was willingly or not. The love that he had for him since they were old enough to understand the concept was finally free; he wasn’t going to lose this opportunity to a half-naked womanizer. Unless…unless Zaveid planned to take Sorey for himself. This new thought forced him to sit on one of the benches in the district.

Mikleo grabbed at his hair, his elbows on his knees and his countenance one of utmost pain. The idea that Zaveid was going to take him away was unbearable. The idea that Zaveid could possibly deflower him was so disgusting, horrendous, and ostentatious; yet the idea of taking both of them almost seemed like fun. Yes, if he could have his way with the Zaveid just like he planned to with Sorey, it would feel like a triumphant victory in battle. A tongue in cheek gesture, a slap in the face! Except he still had no real interest in him.

Then he thought about it. Simply forcing Sorey to take him wouldn’t give as much satisfaction as a mutual love. No matter how malevolent he had become, founding a relationship on something like a captive’s love for his captor made him feel pathetic, even worse was the idea of traumatizing Sorey. And Zaveid was much bigger than Mikleo. He would easily overpower him. Was it worth sharing Sorey?

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mikleo,” he scolded himself. “Sorey only exists for me. I’ll have to cut down everyone else.”

His dear Sorey only had to wait a little longer before they could indulge in the spoils of the malevolence. The insipid purity that the Shepherd still had burning at the very core of his soul will have to be snuffed out if he was to enjoy a life where they could ravish each other. As it was, one thought led to another. To cheer himself up and think less on retaliation and extermination, Mikleo imagined all the things he was going to do to his beloved Shepherd. Both of them were going to fall together into darkness and the double-edged sword that was love would bind them forever. He took solace in the fact that humans couldn’t see him—and never will now that malevolence was overrunning the land. He gave himself to the warmth of Sorey’s future love as he fantasized.

“Mikleo, there you are!” a familiar voice called out. Sorey was using Edna’s umbrella to shield himself from the rain at Lailah’s request. He took a seat next to him so he could hold the umbrella over the both of them. “Why did you run out of the bath?”

The water seraph refused to answer, but he couldn’t help clenching his fists on his knees. Sorey kept pressing him, playfully punching his arms or poking his cheek or bumping him with his broad side. “It was supposed to be a relaxing time for the two of us. Why did we have to share it with that loser?” Mikleo finally spat.

“Everyone’s feeling it,” Sorey soothingly said. “The malevolence is making everyone feel bad, so we’re already trying to stay positive. Perhaps he was trying to stave it off by being with us and being happy.”

“Bullshit.”

“M-Mikleo…!”

“It’s true.”

“Since when did you use words like that?”

“I don’t know, since we got into that fight in the bath? You’re just as dim as ever, Sorey.” His words stung like hornets in Sorey’s heart.

“Don’t be like that, Mikleo. Even if everyone turns into dragons or hellions, I’ll be with you. Even if the malevolence takes me, too; I won’t leave you because we were raised together.”

Hearing him say that made Mikleo feel better like Sorey had staved off the malevolence just with his existence. He wanted to kiss him there, but it was still too soon; he was still too naïve to his own feelings. The tainted water seraph scoffed at his words. Like Sorey would stay with him! The thing wasn’t that he would stay by his side. How could he be so blind to the feelings he held deep inside?

“Sorey, for the record, I will do anything to be with you, so…you better stay with me,” Mikleo bashfully said.

“You’re so cute,” Sorey smiled. He gave a slight tilt of his head, and it was like a field of sunflowers opened up behind him.

Mikleo just watched him. The little purity he still clung to relished that Sorey was still for the most part his usual self. If he weren’t so polluted, he would have like to give him a chaste little kiss, but the malevolence made him want to please him in so many different ways. He couldn’t stand it. He had to get rid of the others so they could finally be alone. But who should disappear first? Who was the biggest thorn in his side at the very moment? He had a special way he wanted to get rid of Zaveid, and Lailah was far too strong to kill. If he killed Rose, he’d turn into a dragon for sure. The only one left was Edna. Sorey wasn’t particularly fond of her as far as he was concerned; he thought he’d miss her least.

“Sorey, I have a request,” Mikleo said as he laid his white head on his shoulder. “Let’s go to the Rayfalke Spiritcrest. I think Edna might be missing her brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An explanation on Edna's behavior--this is a spoiler on the Bad End: When you get the Bad End, Edna becomes particular harsh when it comes to teasing Mikleo. I tried to capture that change in her character, and I think it worked out pretty well?


	3. Twin Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikleo begins his move, first targeting Edna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side-quest spoilers, and by that, it's really the fight itself. Protip: Switch your command to prioritize defense at the beginning of the fight. Also this is where it's going to get really heavy, and chapters should be getting longer. There's a bit more profanity, too.

“What gave you that idea?” Sorey asked. They knew that Edna’s brother Eizen had turned into a dragon at some point in time before they met her, and while the earth seraph wasn’t very open about her emotions, she was at the time in despair. She had also accepted that the only way to save her beloved brother was to kill him. There was no other known way to save a seraph-turned-dragon. Dezel—before he had sacrificed himself to save Rose from Symonne—and Zaveid had both said so themselves. Sorey, though, hoped that there was a way to quell the darkness in Eizen and other dragons so people who loved them wouldn’t feel so sad. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Since our scuffle with Heldalf and Symonne, she’s been icier. She must know that the malevolence from that domain has infected her and is coursing through her like poison. She’s probably thinking of what to do with her last moments,” Mikleo replied.

“But the malevolence isn’t just from the domain.” Sorey looked at Mikleo. His emerald eyes held pain in them—pain for Mikleo who didn’t seem to understand that he was the seed. Pain for Edna who had joined them to help her brother. Pain for Dezel and Zaveid who wanted to save those who had been corrupted even though they didn’t have the power to do so. Pain for Rose who wanted a family to belong to. Pain for Lailah who had to shoulder all of this on top of her own regrets as the Prime Lord. The brunet desperately wanted to tell his childhood friend that he was the source of the malevolence, but in telling him, wouldn’t Mikleo just lose more pieces of himself? He loved everyone, but Mikleo was the one person he didn’t want to see fall. The idea that he could turn into a dragon or become fallen like Symonne created a lump in his throat.

“The malevolence is from all the humans around us, I know. Sorey, you’re not succumbing to it, are you?”

“N-No! I can’t lose hope. If I do, then everyone will suffer.”

Mikleo lazily smiled. “You’re still the Pure Shepherd. Please, don’t let the malevolence corrupt you.” There was something different in that request. It sounded like he genuinely was worried for him. “We should probably get back to the inn and let everyone know that we’re heading to the Spiritcrest.”

Sorey hesitantly agreed. He still didn’t understand why Mikleo was so adamant in trying to help Edna. And stepping up into Eizen’s domain was almost suicide, yet in that brief moment in which Mikleo wished for Sorey to remain the same, he could almost feel something like sympathy. The Shepherd and his tainted water seraph strolled together back to the inn. Mikleo held onto his arm as if to milk all the pleasure of being with him. Every once in a while he had felt something like a punch in his chest which was soothed only when he was close to Sorey. He did his best to ignore it when he was alone, and it was getting easier. Soon it would be negligible. He just had to last longer than everyone else.

When they entered their room back at the inn, they found that Edna and Zaveid were sleeping next to each other while Lailah hovered over Rose. The assassin-merchant tossed and turned in her sleep. There were two bowls on the little table in the room, one cold and untouched and the other only half-eaten. Rose had woken up at some point to receive the stew, but the nausea caused by the malevolence made it impossible to eat it all. The seraphim tried to take some of the load off her shoulders only to end up in a more debilitated state than they previously were.

“Welcome back,” Lailah tried to say with some cheer.

“Everyone’s getting worse?” Sorey asked. His eyes focused on each of them in turn.

Lailah couldn’t bring herself to confirm it. She sat at the edge of Rose’s bed. Her jade eyes were fixated on Edna and Zaveid. To her it seemed that Edna was losing herself faster than everyone else, which wasn’t odd per say. Compared to her and the outlandish wind seraph, Edna was still pretty young. Her tiny body had a lower capacity than the others as well. Lailah pondered what to do to ease her suffering. There were some origami Normin crafts on the bed that she had made to give to Edna when she woke up, but she still doubted that they would help.

“Mikleo suggested that we go to the Spiritcrest. He thought that Edna was upset that she couldn’t help her brother and that—”

“We mustn’t go,” Lailah bulldozed. She turned her head towards them, revealing a look of disappointment that they had never seen on her face. “Taking a malevolence-filled being—especially seraphim—would only serve to augment her brother’s power. That would also put her in danger of becoming a dragon herself.”

Mikleo glared at Lailah. How could she be so callous? What if Edna wanted to spend her final days with her dragon brother? If anything, she could even let herself be eaten by him and save herself from turning. Lailah disagreed. The despair of becoming tainted before she could save him would swallow her up. “Eizen wouldn’t be able to eat her.”

“You really just want to watch everyone suffer, don’t you!” Mikleo accused.

Tensions were rising. Sorey stood between them with his arms pushing them away from each other. Contrary to what Lailah had said, he didn’t want to toss aside what Mikleo thought to do. It was worth letting Edna see Eizen before she succumbed all the while the devious water seraph threw a smirk at her.

“Sorey, don’t you understand? Edna will die!”

“We don’t know for sure!” Sorey lashed back. “Please, just stop fighting! We’ll leave in the morning. For now, just go to sleep.”

***

The journey back to the Rayfalke Spiritcrest was going to be a long one. The distance even between Pendrago and the Glaivend Basin was lot to cover in one day. With Edna weakening, Sorey decided he had to take the risk of absorbing her malevolence so that she didn’t wear herself down by running through the fields. As they crossed the Meadows of Triumph, the Shepherd and his companions noticed that the poisonous rain had reached far beyond the boundaries of Pearloat Pastures and Pendrago. The foliage that once colored the fields with brilliant greens and reds and pinks had become brown and grey and pale yellow from disease. The hellions had grown bigger and stronger, the crucible lying in ruins near the center of the meadow.

“Why are the hellions so big now?!” Rose questioned.

Lailah couldn’t say anything. She somewhat hoped that Sorey and Rose could see that what they had done caused the world to fall into ruin. If they never realized what they did, then she had resolved herself back then that she would break her oath to tell them. She would sacrifice her life to attempt to make things right. For now, she advised that they avoided any and all hellions until they got to the Spiritcrest.

“Wouldn’t it be better to purify them?” Sorey innocently asked.

“Lailah’s right; you’ll just end up as their next meal,” Zaveid told him.

So that was that. Sorey led his troupe of tainted followers across the Meadows of Triumph while trying their best to avoid the hellions. As they neared the entrance to Lastonbell, they found a small reprieve. The Lord of the Land for this area still had some strength, but it seemed like her power was contained only in the city. The malevolence levels were high but not as high as in Pendrago, where the Church had long been fostering greed and gluttony above the welfare of the people.

“How’s everyone holding up?” Zaveid asked.

“Well, I’m feeling a little better. Sorey?” Rose continued.

“Just…fine…maybe a little tired…” he puffed. He was holding his chest as the malevolence weighed heavy on his heart.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ Edna weakly uttered. _“The malevolence in my body is affecting you on a more up-close-and-personal basis. We should take a break.”_

Sorey had never heard Edna sound so worried and sincere for him. It was most likely due to her burden being pushed onto him, yet the Shepherd didn’t mind. Edna was in just as much pain if not more; he couldn’t afford to take a rest while she withered. As the leader of the team, he suggested that they eat something to regain some strength then push on through the Volgran Forest. Lailah was the only one to be against the decision, emphasizing that pushing his limits would only cause the malevolence to spread with the frustrations of difficult battles mixed in with exhaustion. Rose took up for her and, without so much as a question, pushed Sorey into the inn. There they ate whatever entrée of the day was available. Edna snatched food off Rose’s plate occasionally in an effort to seem like herself.

“I thought seraphim didn’t have to eat,” Rose sighed.

“Well, sorry to disappoint you,” Edna countered. She seemed to blush a little as Rose pestered her about the sudden change in physiology. “I figured that eating would help Sorey with dealing with my…problems.”

“What’s this? Little Edna cares for our Shepherd!” Zaveid laughed. “This malevolence sure is something else!”

The break ended with all of them renting a room and having a rest save for Sorey and Edna, both of whom were too anxious and sick. Sorey had remembered his promise to her—he wouldn’t try to do anything to Eizen until they were positive there was no other way to save him. The only way to save a dragon was to kill it. It was a grim reality, and Edna was well-aware of what it meant to kill a dragon. The unfortunate seraphim that met with this fate would move onto the afterlife; there was no rebirth or restoration. At the same time, Edna felt some solace in finally facing her monster of a brother. She kept reminding herself that he wasn’t there. That gigantic body was a shell for a mind and heart that had lost their way.

“Sorey, can I ask you something?” she mumbled. The Shepherd sat next to her on the floor. “The object that Zaveid gave you a while ago—the one that he used to unbind himself from malevolence—do you still have it?”

“Yeah, I have it strapped to my belt. What about it?” Sorey cautiously asked. The Siegfried was only used as a last ditch effort to unbind someone from pure malevolence. It was the one method he wanted to avoid using all together because the bullet essentially used the soul of a seraph to become what was called strength with its own free will. “Edna, you can’t be thinking what I think you’re thinking!”

Edna hid under her umbrella. “The only way to save my brother without killing him would be to shoot him with my strength. I don’t want to die knowing I did nothing to rescue him.”

“But even if you sacrificed yourself,” Zaveid interrupted, “we would need more than one bullet.”

The earth seraph fell silent. She was ready to be a noble sacrifice, but as it was, she was still too weak. Zaveid sat on the other side next to her and rested a hand on her head. It was an odd scene to see the two that had always kept some distance from everyone connect with each other. Then again, they had a mutual person of interest. Zaveid had made a promise with Eizen long ago. He was ordered to put him down if he ever turned into a dragon. Upon hearing this, Edna’s eyes welled with tears. She had tried so hard to find a different way, but in the end Eizen was fated to die like every other dragon.

After everyone had rested up, they left at dusk. Edna merged with Sorey again so she wouldn’t tire out even though Lailah thought it was a bad idea. Zaveid teased her by saying she was just jealous of Edna and that he was more than willing to carry her. Unsurprisingly, she turned down the offer.

They traveled through the Volgran Forest, trekked through the singed battlefield that was the Glaivend Basin and came out to the Marlind side of the Falkewin Hillside. Just like the Meadows of Triumph, everything looked dead. Out of concern for the people of Marlind, Sorey requested that they make a stop there before heading to the Spiritcrest. Marlind, too, was afflicted again with the curse of the plague that had wiped out a number of its residents. This time the sickness was worse. More people were dying than before. Mikleo pulled Sorey away from the lifeless village for fear that seeing so much death would affect him sooner than he wanted.

“We shouldn’t dawdle here,” he reminded them. “The amount of malevolence here could get to Sorey.”

“But we worked so hard to get rid of the plague. Why is it back?” Sorey tearfully said.

 _“Do you think it’s because Eizen is growing stronger?”_ Edna wondered.

“All the more reason we should hurry to the Spiritcrest,” Mikleo urged.

The five of them (with Edna inside of Sorey) finally proceeded to the Rayfalke Spiritcrest. The normal hellions that used to live there lay shredded on the rocky paths to the summit. Mountain trolls, elder treants, and the ghosts of undead druids now populated the place. These hellions were a little more bloodthirsty than usual, so Mikleo, Lailah, and Zaveid defeated and purified them while Rose offered a shoulder for Sorey to lean on. The dragon’s domain was almost as taxing as Heldalf’s domain. It was like the dragon himself had grown big enough to stomp on all of them, and by the time they had reached the summit, everyone had to take a rest.

“Damn, getting there nowadays takes forever,” Zaveid panted.

“It’s what happens when a dragon continues to grow,” Lailah solemnly answered. “If we can just avoid the rest of the hellions until the peak, we might be able to last against it.”

 _“As a forewarning, I would prioritize defense with Sorey as the main attacker,”_ Edna advised. _“And if it gets really tough, just run away.”_

With that advice duly noted, they finished the trek up to the peak where Eizen slept. Edna materialized from Sorey’s body, feeling the full weight of the domain her brother had created in his blind rage on her head and shoulders. She fell to her knees and vomited the food she had eaten back in Lastonbell. It was unbelievable how strong he had become!

Mikleo lagged behind everyone, watching and waiting for the opportune moment. The malevolence in him resonated with the malevolence emanating from Eizen and forming his domain, making the wickedness in him that much stronger. He summoned his staff out of view of his so-called “friends” and channeled the malevolence into it. Now he just had to wait for his moment to strike.

Edna recovered from the sudden change in the atmosphere. “Rose, I’ll be your shield. If anyone’s going to kill Eizen it’ll be—”

“It’ll be me to kill him,” Zaveid finished. He bound to Rose with his pendulum ready to strangle the dragon. “I’ll be the main attacker. Sorey, you and Mikleo are in charge of keeping everyone up to speed! Armatize on my command!”

“Got it!” Sorey responded. “Mikleo, get ready!”

Eizen stirred from his sleep, red eyes glaring at them. He stomped towards them, wisps of fire leaving his mouth. He was incredibly hungry, and what better to feast on than the Shepherd and his friends? The finest six-course meal that a dragon had ever seen!

Zaveid initiated the assault, whipping his pendulums around Eizen’s legs and holding them as tight as he could. He ordered Rose to slice through his thick reptilian skin while Lailah burned away at his face. Edna repeatedly used her seraphic artes to keep him pinned down, but she wanted to be the one to finish him off. Sorey went for the dragon’s neck, and while the Sacred Blade could slice through even the thickest of malevolence, it couldn’t pierce the scaly skin.

“Mikleo, I need you!” Sorey called. Mikleo ran to him for armatization. The boost in strength should be enough to break through the scales…at least he hoped. He unleashed a flurry of glowing arrows of ice into the dragon until everything abruptly went dark.

 _“Sorey, I have to take over,”_ Mikleo seductively said in Sorey’s head. Sorey stopped attacking Eizen as his eyes glazed over. The water seraph hugged his Shepherd from behind in the ephemeral space of their shared soul, breathing in his scent of lavender and sage. _“I’m doing this for you, my dear Shepherd.”_

Sorey slowly turned towards Edna, an arrow forming in his Sacred Bow that dripped with malevolence. He pulled back on the string taking aim at the little earth seraph. Zaveid’s voice faintly sounded just as the arrow raced to her, and when it pierced her chest, the same voice cried out in anger. The dragon escaped its binds, whacking Lailah and Rose away. Sorey regained control of his body, de-armatizing from Mikleo who had a satisfied smirk on his thin lips. He watched as Edna struggled to get up under Eizen and deep inside, he congratulated himself for successfully eliminating the first obstacle.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Zaveid snarled as he wound up his pendulums. “The last thing we need is another damn dragon!” He armatized with Rose and scooped up Lailah to bring her to safety. The next order of business was to get Edna, but with Eizen thrashing about like a wild horse, it was going to be a suicide mission. _“Rose, do you think you can fly as fast as possible to get Edna?”_

“W-What?! I mean, I can try, but she’s right under him!” Rose panicked.

_“It’s our only shot at getting her!”_

Zaveid and Rose flew high into the air directly above of Eizen. It was a time-sensitive plan, and they had to be quick about it. They sped down like a rocket from the ominous clouds around them, the wind burning Rose’s eyes and she had to will herself to keep them open as they weaved around the dragon’s trunk-like legs. Edna squirmed, a pool of malevolence growing bigger on her chest by the second. They tried again to dive down and grab her, but again Eizen got in the way. Each attempt met with failure, and each failure meant that Edna was falling deeper into her own despair. She had hoped that they would be able to defeat her brother and give his soul the reprieve she wished for him, yet she knew that she would need someone to save her soon. She accepted the malevolence that Mikleo had instilled in her that was so pure and unadulterated that it was more than enough to turn her into a dragon. A whirlwind of the malevolence surrounded her, knocking back her brother and sending Rose and Zaveid into Sorey and Lailah; the transformation began inside the maelstrom of darkness. Her lapis lazuli like eyes turned red, slitting like a snake as veiny wings grew from her back. A long meaty tail ripped through her sundress and talons tore her boots. Her face elongated and fangs the size of Zaveid’s hands grew and her hair fell from her head only to be replaced by golden scales, tapering into needle-sharp horns. She was a scaled-down replica of her brother, and the animosity that had grown in her as she absorbed the region’s malevolence shattered her mind. Her screams of pain morphed into the roars of anger.

“We were too late…” Zaveid choked as he de-armatized from Rose. “We’ve gotta move before they start going at each other. Two dragons in the same place mean one thing—they’re gonna level the mountain.”

Lailah sobbed quietly as Zaveid pulled her and Rose away. Sorey gazed in horror. How did it come to this? Mikleo, again armatizing with the Shepherd, forced him to follow behind the wind seraph. They reached the foot of the Spiritcrest in time to see the peak crumble away in the distance, Eizen and Edna’s roars echoing until only Eizen was the victor of their battle.

“Edna!” Rose screamed. “Edna, no!”

“He took her down already…” Sorey whimpered.

“There was nothing we could do for either of them,” Lailah conceded. She clasped her hands together in prayer. “Even if she couldn’t be purified, may her soul rest in peace.” 

Mikleo de-armatized from Sorey look quite happy with himself. He crossed his arms with glowing amethyst eyes that had a tinge of red; the pupils of his eyes had turned into slits. Out of nowhere, Zaveid punched him down, but his smirk remained.

“What the fuck was that, Mikleo?! Were you planning on sabotaging this from the start?! Were you planning to turn Edna into a dragon?! Answer me, you piece of shit!” he snapped. Rose and Sorey held him back with all their might and he still managed to move just a bit. “You killed her and nearly got everyone else eaten in the process!”

“I had no idea that she would turn, and how can you blame me? Sorey was the one shooting!” Mikleo retaliated.

“Don’t you dare pin this on him! You’re in charge of aiming, so why did you shoot Edna?!”

Rose and Lailah got between Mikleo and Zaveid. “Everyone needs to calm down! We just lost Edna; we don’t need you two killing each other off, too! We have to figure out how to fix all this before it gets worse!” Rose battled knowing full well that Zaveid at least wouldn’t want to hear her opinion. She pushed him back then called to Sorey, “Do something! You’re the Shepherd!”

“Mikleo…didn’t do anything wrong,” the brunet meekly said. Having watched Edna succumb to the malevolence then hearing Mikleo pushing the blame on him hurt him deeply, but he couldn’t be mad at his water seraph. After all, he blacked out and the next thing he knew, Edna had turned.

“Really, you expect me to believe that lying asshole over there had nothing to do with this? I knew our Shepherd was gullible and naïve, but this is fucking ridiculous!” the seething wind seraph scoffed. “Lailah, we’re going to have a serious talk tonight.”

“I can’t discuss this with you,” Lailah bluntly said. “I can’t break my oath. Not now.”

“So we have to continue on with one of Heldalf’s minions?!” He punched a boulder so hard that his knuckles bled profusely from the abrasions. “I promised Eizen that I would protect Edna, and you made me break that promise!”

“If it was your job to protect her, then why didn’t you pull her out of the way?” Mikleo sneered. He sassily walked up to Sorey’s side then placed a hand over his mouth as he feigned thought. “Perhaps you secretly wanted her out of the picture? Killing her brother and then having to take care of her, especially since she was a handful to begin with? The one at fault here is you, Zaveid dear.”

“Mikleo, I order you to stop instigating argument,” Lailah sighed, “We can’t stay in Marlind, so we’ll have to board in Ladylake.” Sorey and Rose, unsure of how to take the series of events that stole away a cherished friend and the consequences, followed behind the fire seraph while putting distance between the other two seraphim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are enjoying this because I'm still trying to decide which path I should go with this even while in my classes.


	4. Malevolent Tidings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our team of heroes takes a break in Ladylake after losing Edna when Rose hears some foreboding rumors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I need to give you a break with the emotional roller coaster, hahaha...Also this is a pretty long chapter!

As Sorey and Rose slept to recover from the events that had just transpired, Mikleo soaked in the inn’s bathtub. Lailah had ordered Zaveid to keep his distance from him for now, which was perfectly fine. In fact, it was the best thing that could have happened, for now he could begin to plan how to take out the next target. Lailah still had too much control, and Zaveid was on edge and impossible to trick or even fight off. Rose was there essentially to keep him tied down as well; having a potential hostage was never a bad idea. He thought that filling Sorey with a little more despair, more malevolence, would give him a stronger hold if he were necessary to fight Zaveid. He recalled that the princess of Hyland was technically still a Squire even though Rose had replaced her. Alisha was a prime target, too. She had been dealing with the complaints and resentment of her own people for quite a long time in addition to the fact that she knew nothing about her beloved mentor and guard Maltran turning into a hellion some months ago. The sheer idea of corrupting the princess enough to turn her into a hellion herself wasn’t a bad one. Sorey deeply cared for her, so her death would undoubtedly plunge him deeper into that beautiful darkness.

“Oh, my dear Sorey, I’m so sorry that I’m doing this to you,” Mikleo chuckled. “But it’s the only way to make you mine before I turn into a dragon myself. If I’m lucky, all this malevolence will only make me fall…just for you.”

In the bedroom, Lailah patted Sorey and Rose’s heads like a mother tucking in her children. Zaveid watched her feeling both defeated and frustrated since he couldn’t protect Edna. He worried if he would at least be able to save Rose and Lailah from Mikleo, the thought was making him feel even weaker than he actually was. He wished to talk with Dezel about the best way of going about all this—having a traitor and all—but he figured Dezel would call him something like pathetic for failing to keep anyone out of danger. On top of that, Eizen was still alive while his little sister’s corpse probably lay at his talons. What would he think of him if he knew that he was powerless to get Edna away from the malevolence? Contemplating more and more, it started to feel like breaking his pact with Lailah would give him more freedom to counter whatever it was that Mikleo was planning since she had the power to stop him if he got too out of hand. Something was definitely amiss, and the dutiful fire seraph had her hands tied. On the flip side, if he broke the pact, he wouldn’t be able to save Sorey from Mikleo. He had his share of malevolence, but at least he wasn’t trying to bring down the only one that had the power to purify hellions into the dismal hell that Heldalf had been making on the earth. And if Sorey were to become corrupted, anyone and everyone connected to him would only have so long. Still, he couldn’t get over it. They were missing an important piece of the puzzle and had been missing it since they first met Heldalf it seemed.

“Do you think…?” Zaveid began thinking aloud. “What if killing Heldalf unleashed all of the malevolence that had been bottled up?” Lailah’s interest was piqued even though she didn’t turn to him. “How many iris gems have you gotten?”

“The Earthen Historia? Quite a few. Sorey set out to find them before deciding to go after Heldalf. We happened to get them on occasion from the stronger hellions, but he and Mikleo were often confused by the contents,” Lailah replied. She admitted that they didn’t understand most of the events captured in the glowing iridescent orbs because she couldn’t explain most of them without breaking her oath. Zaveid was understanding in that regard but was still irritated that the oath was keeping her from divulging vital information.

“Mind if I bounce some ideas off you?”

“Depending on what they are, I may not be able to confirm or reject them.”

“We’re start out slow and easy.”

First was the unusual spike in malevolence throughout the Glenwood Continent. Killing Heldalf had caused it, and it seemed like nothing would stop it from spreading. Lailah confirmed that the surge had greatly offset the balance of things, adding that the Lords of the Land were growing weaker as more people fell to the negativity and became hellions.

“Alright, here comes a more difficult question: do you think it’s possible that the sudden rise is tied in with the absence of the blanket domain?” Zaveid continued.

“Blanket domain?”

“The domain put up by Maotelus to protect the entire land. I heard rumors that he’d disappeared some time ago, and there was an increase in hellions when it happened.”

Lailah shifted her gaze. “N-No comment.”

“It stands to reason that Maotelus and Heldalf could have been bound, meaning that Heldalf was a Shepherd at one point and Maotelus was his Prime Lord.” Zaveid began pacing across the front of the room. “And if Heldalf was a Shepherd who fell thanks to that much corruption, then what would happen to Maotelus? He would in turn absorb that malevolence. He might even turn into the strongest dragon ever known.”

Lailah had to stay quiet, but she knew Zaveid was right. “Assuming that you might be onto something, what do you plan on doing?”

“I don’t know yet.” He rubbed his neck with his gaze fixed on Sorey and Rose. “I guess I’ll stick around a little longer so Mikleo doesn’t try anything, but eventually I’ll have to leave the group to pursue this theory. Getting to the root of the problem…is a problem in and of itself. That said, should we try to find another earth seraph to help us?”

“We most likely won’t find anyone since there’s so much malevolence…and I don’t think we’re ready to replace Edna.”

Zaveid gave her a moment to herself before placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. When Mikleo returned from the bath, the wind seraph put some distance between them. He couldn’t know that they were discussing the source of the malevolence because that would just be another opportunity to sabotage. He also wanted to tell Lailah not to listen to his suggestions, but that, too, would be a red flag.

“I see everything’s still pretty mellow,” Mikleo sighed. “I’m sad that Edna’s gone, but at least she won’t have to worry about her brother anymore.” He was egging Zaveid. After a moment of awkward silence, he asked what the plan was, to which Lailah responded that they didn’t know. Truthfully she was worried about Alisha and how she was faring under the storm of complaints and malevolence; however, she knew not to speak of anything that would give Mikleo ideas. There was another period of no talking. “You guys are so boring. Can you wake up Sorey? He’s more interesting to talk to than you.”

“No can do, Mickeyboy. He’s gotta rest up for any baddies that come after him,” Zaveid nonchalantly said. His snide smile drove the tainted water seraph up the wall. “Here’s an idea, why don’t you go take a walk around the inn lobby? I bet you’ll find something fun to do.”

“I’d rather stay and talk to Sorey,” he countered. He waltzed over to his friend’s bed and sat down then leaned back so his head was resting on his stomach. It was like he was laying claim to him, which angered Zaveid somewhat, but it was completely harmless to lay on someone as opposed to shooting someone. It wasn’t like he was pushing malevolence onto him; this was less dangerous than having him inside him. “And besides, I can’t go very from him without breaking the pact, and I think it would be best if I just stayed out. Who knows what would happen if I just wasn’t part of the group—not that it feels like I still am.”

Lailah looked somewhat offended by the comment. She wasn’t trying to ostracize him, but she was concerned for everyone’s safety, and if that meant she had to be colder to him, then so be it. With that decision, though, Mikleo knew that there was a definite change in her demeanor. It didn’t matter. She could treat him bad for all he cared; it would only increase the malevolence in her, and increased malevolence meant someone was going to be breathing her purifying flame instead.

“I take it Rose is feeling just as bad?” Mikleo sincerely asked. Whether or not it was a ploy, it was somehow refreshing that he was talking about someone else. But considering that Mikleo had been annoyed since Rose posed as Sorey’s wife when they had first reached Lastonbell, Lailah suspected that sincerity was more likely to be a guise than a genuine concern for her. Zaveid hovered over the primrose-haired girl with a worry that neither seraph had ever witnessed. “You don’t need to watch over her. She’ll be okay.”

“It’s not that I’m worried…” Zaveid murmured to himself. Dezel, the former wind seraph, protected Rose despite manipulating her to kill his enemies. When Symonne had previously trapped Rose and attempted to turn her into a hellion with a massive influx of malevolence, Zaveid had given the strange gun Siegfried to Sorey on a hunch. The quiet and stoic wind seraph sacrificed himself to save her, and when Rose woke and addressed them the next morning that day, she told them what Dezel had told her in the ephemeral space of her soul.

As a wind seraph, Zaveid felt something like an obligation to protect Rose in addition to his promise to kill Eizen. He had already failed to follow through with Eizen’s wish; he wasn’t about to let Rose die. He lightly touched her face before moving to a corner to sleep. He tipped Dezel’s hat over his eyes, breathing softly as he tried to relax through the pain of the malevolence in him.

“He’s feeling bad about Edna…” Lailah said. She knew Mikleo didn’t care yet hoped that some small part of him did. “He often joked about marrying Edna, but I have to wonder if he actually felt that way about her.” Lailah sat next to Zaveid, leaning on him as if she were an anchor to happiness and hope.

Mikleo crawled over Sorey and lay next to him. His chest fell heavier than normal, like the weight of his betrayal was already starting to get to him. Just as Lailah was there to remind Zaveid that things were going to be okay, Mikleo pulled Sorey’s hand to his face. He leaned his cheek into it as he went to sleep.

***

That morning Rose woke up to find the seraphim where they had been all night. Rose didn’t think it was possible for seraphim to look so vulnerable, but Lailah and Zaveid managed to do it. When she looked over at Sorey, she found Mikleo curled up into his side like he had had a nightmare. Seeing him like that, even if he had a larger amount of malevolence than everyone else, it was a struggle to remain angry at him for getting Edna killed. What he did was still unforgiveable but…

Sorey roused from his sleep, the burden of the malevolence weighing slightly more on him. Rose waved to him then placed her finger over her lips. She pointed to the body next to him that had wrapped his arms around his chest. He had been aware that something was holding him down, but it turned out to be Mikleo (not that malevolence was too far off), and he seemed to have been crying. He wanted to wake him and ask what happened.

“If you can get from under him, we can go and put in an order for breakfast,” Rose whispered. She seemed to be a little happier today. Perhaps some of the negativity had subsided, or her naturally positive attitude kept it at bay. Sorey carefully tried to pry Mikleo’s arms from around him, but the seraph had a tight grip on him. When he saw that he couldn’t escape the surprising iron-grip lock, he shrugged. “Figures with the way he’s been acting.” Rose got up and stretched, washed up in the bathroom, and went out to the lobby.

Ladylake’s inn wasn’t as lavishly designed as Pendrago’s inn, but the food had a little more pep to it. She ordered scotch eggs for everyone—to which the inn keeper was amazed that she was presumptively going to eat five orders of the eggs herself—and quietly waited at the bar. They gave her a complimentary glass of water while she waited. Even though malevolence had broken out over the land, it was still bright as ever outside. It would be a good day to meet with Alisha and see how she was faring with the political climate in her city.

“I just heard about it this morning, actually.”

“Poor thing has been working too hard.”

“If she’d done her job right as princess, she wouldn’t be in this state.”

Rose listened in on the patrons’ conversations. Had something happened to Alisha? As more people came in to eat, the holes in the gossip filled in.

“To think that that plague came with her here…”

“That damn wench is going to kill us all!”

“We should send her back to Marlind!”

It was sickening to hear her own people talk so terrible about their princess. She had to admit that Alisha was still wet behind the ears when it came to ruling, but she understood that there was little she could do since the government almost anywhere was corrupt beyond repair now. Rose wanted to stand up for her on her behalf; however, starting a fight in the morning was a bad idea, even more so when her companions were still sleeping.

“Have you heard? The rains have started back in Pendrago. I heard that it’s on its way here.”

“Didn’t the Shepherd stop them?”

“If the rain is back, and the plague is worse than ever…does that mean we’ve lost out Shepherd?”

“Bah, like we ever had one! It’s probably a band from a hurricane somewhere. It’ll be gone before you know it.”

“But the plague?”

Just when Rose had heard enough of the inn patrons badmouthing her friends, the chef rung his tap bell and pushed the five plates of eggs out the service window. She took the eggs, left the appropriate amount of gald, and marched back to the room that everyone was staying in. By now Lailah and Zaveid had woken up, and Sorey was still pinned down by a sleeping Mikleo. Lailah offered her a smile, probably because she felt safer when the water seraph was asleep.

“Ooh, today’s menu is scotch eggs? To be honest, I have been craving brown sugar!” the chipper fire seraph sang. She took a plate and ate one egg before complaining how she was too full to eat the other one.

“Well if you can’t eat it, I’ll take it,” Zaveid joked. He made a motion to snatch her egg, but she flicked some fire near his hand to deter his efforts. “Okay, okay. Rose, you should eat, too, since Sorey’s got his hands full with Mickey-boy. That kid’s sleeping like a log; he’ll be there a while.”

“You do know I’m awake, right?” Sorey sighed.

“I sure do!” Zaveid let out a genuinely happy laugh, and it felt like he had gotten rid of his malevolence build-up. Of course, it was still there, but at least he was staying positive. “But seriously, can’t you wriggle out of his arms?” He stuffed his mouth with his eggs. “I mean, we can’t stay here all day.”

Rose finished her second egg with maximum effort. “I heard some stuff out in the lobby. Sorey, I think we need to see Alisha; I’m really worried about her,” she said. Zaveid and Lailah weren’t sure if Mikleo could still hear while sleeping, but they tensed up. If he heard anything about Alisha, would he try to sabotage her just like he did with Edna? But Sorey, upon learning this, forced himself to sit up even with his water seraph holding him down.

Alisha had been the first human he had ever met, and for her to be in danger of anything made his heart race with anxiety and fear. Had her mentor Maltran done something to her? Had Chancellor Bartlow usurped her status? He shoveled down his breakfast and forced Mikleo to let go of him, in turn waking him up. Before he could even ask, the sleepy seraph took note of the urgency in Sorey’s eyes, a sly smile stretching thin out of his sight.

“Sorey, please calm down,” Lailah requested. She rested a slender hand on his arm; she had hoped that the feeling of her warm hand would keep him grounded. Even if they flew with the armatizations to Alisha’s home, it wouldn’t have changed anything since she reportedly was already in trouble. The best thing to do was to be calm about the situation until they got the real details.

Sorey felt pain in his chest. The guilt of not being able to help her in her time of need tore at him, and while Zaveid had reinforced Lailah’s decision, he still insisted that they go immediately. Mikleo argued in favor of Sorey, stating that his connection to Alisha was based on the fact that she was his first human encounter. He was almost like a sister to her despite them only knowing so much about each other.

“Then what does that make me?!” Rose whined. She swallowed her damaged pride, also siding with Mikleo. Her reasoning was that she had too many people against her, and for the civilians to be talking that bad about her, it was possible that a hellion was running rampant in her terrace. Then again, it was no surprise that there was a hellion in her midst. Maltran was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. “And remember the scuffle with Symonne and Lunarre? Something strikes me as odd.”

“We saw Lunarre die, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Mikleo reminded her.

“But…did he really? The way he just laughed off what’s usually my killing blow makes it seem like there was some smoke and mirrors involved.”

“Symonne was in the area, too. The little bitch can create illusions; I wouldn’t be surprised if the Lunarre you killed was a fake,” Zaveid added.

Rose thought about the recent events. The increased malevolence brought back the poisonous rain and the deadly plague. “Do you think it’s possible that… strong hellions like him could come back?”

“I think that’s a bit of a stretch,” Mikleo rebutted.

“Actually, it wouldn’t be too far off. Malevolence, despite being powerful in highly populated places, has essentially been kept in check. Since we’ve never experienced malevolence levels like this, who knows? Malevolence brought back the spirits and dead that we’ve seen in ruins, to reanimate a slain hellion seems, in a way, plausible,” Lailah conjectured.

“But then that would suggest that Heldalf would come back,” Sorey said. The last thing they needed was for Heldalf to come back.

It was a perplexing issue, but nevertheless, it was all the more reason to go see Alisha before the hellions around her tried to kill her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little more analytical. And I'm assuming that canonically malevolence has the potential to bring back the dead considering there are many types of undead hellions, but perhaps it works on a how resigned were you to die deal.


	5. A Noble Star's Passing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey and company meet with Alisha, but something is clearly amiss. Even stranger is Sergei's sudden appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote until 1AM again...but on the bright side, things are picking back up in a chaotic way, and there's no better way to pick things up than by sending everyone into a mass confusion! Also, this chapter was partly inspired by Episode 5 of Beautiful Bones and completely inspired by the "Rock You" skit.

As Sorey made his way to the nobles’ district in Ladylake, civilians looked at him with scorn and other jeered at him. The news of what was happening in Pendrago and Marlind had reached them by way of traveling merchants. Of course, they didn’t know who the Shepherd specifically was, but by now, the people of Ladylake at the very least recognized the legendary garb, especially after seeing him return so often to check on their princess. They threw insults at him, claiming that his relationship with Alisha would force her to resign.

“Ever since she chose the Shepherd, it’s been hell in the city! Chancellor Bartlow should’ve been the one to pick our savior!” someone yelled.

“What if the Shepherd and the princess are having an affair?” someone else proposed.

“How scandalous! We don’t need anyone like that in the government!” a third person hissed.

Sorey did his best to block out all of the protests and boos resonating from the crowds around him. He remembered that Lailah told him that this would happen, and it never bothered him as much as it did now. Maybe it was the malevolence that made him more sensitive to it. Zaveid reminded him that half the insults would technically negate his ability to be the Shepherd, saying, “If you and Alisha were doing anything out of lust for each other or anything sinful in general, both of you would lose your resonance with the seraphim. Don’t let it get to you. She’s a good friend, and she’s important to a lot of people and seraphim. Most importantly, you really care for her well-being.”

“Zaveid’s right,” Mikleo said. “If you dwell on them, you’ll endanger us all.”

When they opened the gate to the nobles’ district, they were shocked that the weather changed so drastically. It was overcast, and there was a stagnant smell in the area. The water that was decoratively walled into sections around the curve of the small man-made island was murky. The usual priests and knights that passed time here were gone, but there was some clamoring coming from the direction of Alisha’s terrace. As they rounded the corner, they spotted three guards keeping a crowd of disgruntled civilians away from her gate with their spears. Sorey and Rose pushed their way through the crowd while Lailah, Zaveid, and Mikleo skirted around the edges. The guards recognized his robe at once.

“The Shepherd has arrived! The Shepherd has arrived!” they announced to Alisha’s maid. “We’re sending him and his Squire in!”

The gate open just enough to let Sorey and Rose through then closed quickly after that. Because normal people couldn’t see them, they had locked the seraphim out, leaving their only option to, just for second, go inside Sorey and materialize again since simply pushing open the gate would just cause more problems. Sorey had forgotten that they were still outside the gate and took off into Alisha’s mansion. If he got too far ahead, they would risk breaking the pact, so Lailah permitted it just this once. Mikleo was delighted; a rush of malevolence of this caliber would affect him just like he wanted it to.

Lailah went first, then Zaveid, and lastly Mikleo as a way to buffer the negativity of each other, which forced Sorey to abruptly stop. He gripped his chest like his heart had stopped beating, his world going dark. He began to collapse, but Rose caught him before he did just past the threshold of the mansion. The fire and wind seraphim materialized as soon as they were inside the grounds, but Mikleo had yet to come out.

“Mikleo, I order you to come outside this instant!” Lailah demanded.

Mikleo followed his orders but only after making sure some of the evilness had rubbed off on Sorey. In the ephemeral space of his soul, Sorey had clawed at his chest to make the now burning sensation subside.

 _“Why does it hurt so much?”_ he had choked. He had winced as each beat of his troubled heart introduced to his body a sharper pain than the last. _“M-Mikleo, please help me…”_ He had whined in pain like an injured animal. The light in his soul had very gradually diminished over time, but Mikleo’s figure still glowed bright.

 _“It’ll be okay, Sorey,”_ Mikleo had told him. He had kissed him tenderly on his pain-twisted mouth. The Shepherd wasn’t sure what to think about it in that space at that time. There was love in it, and he did indeed love Mikleo, but there was also the wickedness that scared him more than what came from Heldalf or Symonne. He trusted him, but at the same time, he felt like he was going to be greatly betrayed. _“I’m here with you. The more exposed you are to it the easier it will be to accept it.”_

 _“W-We can’t…accept it…we have to…fight it…”_ Sorey had panted.

“Sorey, are you okay?” Alisha’s voice asked. She was in a wheelchair looking like she hadn’t eaten in days. She had a phlegmy cough, her eyes were sunken in and tired, her hair and skin looked dry—she looked like a completely different person. “I will have my hands fetch you something to drink.”

“Thanks,” Rose said for him. She explained what had happened since the last time they saw her, elaborating more on the events that happened after they killed Heldalf. “Since then…everything we’ve done has been undone.”

Alisha felt so sorry for them. “I admit that I feel one less presence. Did Sorey lose a seraph?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Lailah answered. Alisha found comfort in hearing her voice even if it was to deliver bad news. She explained superficially that Edna had died while trying to quell her brother. She left out the details about Mikleo’s involvement and just how horrible it was to watch her die for the sake of not making her feel worse.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Lailah, Sorey.” Alisha, whose ability to see the seraphim had been reduced in her time away from Sorey, could hardly see the fire seraph, but she offered her an exhausted smile before letting loose another storm of coughs. Rose patted her back as the maid poured her a glass of water. “As you can see, all of this stress is really getting to me. Maltran has been giving me tea to recover, though, so I should get better soon.”

“Tea?” Rose asked.

“Yes, a personal blend that she made herself. It’s delicious. Should I have her make you some?”

Zaveid and Lailah straightened upon hearing this while Mikleo remained unchanged by this fact. Sorey and Rose exchanged looks. Already they could sense something was peculiar about Alisha’s statement. They didn’t want to further worry her, so they asked to take their leave now that they had seen she was at the very least still alive. Alisha didn’t want them to go so soon, especially Sorey. She wanted to catch up with him since her duties as a royal knight and princess kept her tied down in Ladylake. She had admitted to herself and Maltran at some point that she was rather jealous that she couldn’t travel with him like Lailah and Mikleo, but it was a harmless feeling; she knew that Sorey was too busy to be worrying about things like a beautiful girl waiting to save him from a desperate battle.

She was made to believe that Sorey’s group had left as she watched them leave when the crowd had dispersed from her gate, but Rose insisted that they snoop around the palace when they turned the corner. Sorey agreed with her, stating, “Knowing that Maltran is a hellion, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying something.”

“She’s been waiting for an excuse to kill her, and from what I’ve gathered traveling with you guys, she’ll really itching to knock her off ASAP,” Zaveid added. His voice was low just in case Alisha could hear them.

“It looks like her resonance has decreased as well. Perhaps the neuroticism is pulling her faith in the Shepherd and seraphim down,” Lailah said.

“We should wait until night before storming the palace. Chancellor Bartlow’s guards might be waiting for someone to find evidence on Maltran or anyone else with evil ideas,” Mikleo suggested. It was a legitimate suggestion, and neither of the other seraphim detected any ill intent. They were still unsure whether to fully trust him; the memory of Edna’s death was forever etched into their brains.

Rose looked in the direction of the palace from around the corner. Her knives were drawn like she was ready to go head first into a fight with the guards at the door. “I’m going to see if I can sneak in now. The longer we wait, the higher the possibility that Maltran really is doing something to make her so sick,” she almost whispered.

“We can’t risk it!” Sorey objected. He held onto her wrist so she couldn’t sprint off. His deep green eyes looked at her pleadingly. “If you’re caught, you’ll be executed. We have to wait and catch her in the act. If Maltran is trying to feign remedies for her sickness, she probably has a certain schedule to keep in order to avoid suspicion.”

“Where did you get that idea?” Zaveid asked. It wasn’t meant to be a mean comment; rather he was impressed that Sorey was thinking so deeply to emulate the mind of a hateful criminal. It was a dangerous thing to do, but it was helping them get somewhere.

“Gramps used to pick up novels from markets whenever he went to a human village. One of the books was about a wife that used to mix arsenic into her husbands’ soup and then she would collect whatever they willed to her! It was a great story, but it’s kind of scary to think someone you married would just kill you for money like that. She was caught in the end, though, so there was kind of a happy ending.”

Rose snapped her head back around. They had encountered arsenic before in one of the ruins they explored with Edna. She, Edna, and Mikleo had found an abundance of orpiment ore. Orpiment contained arsenic trisulfide, according to the late earth seraph. “Talk about a lucky break,” the merchant-assassin sighed. “Sorey, do you remember where the wife got the arsenic to kill her husbands?”

“I think she used rat poison that she bought from an inn.”

Rose bit her thumbnail. It was very possible that Maltran could have purchased rat poison, but it would look bad on the knights and royal family if Alisha’s terrace were to be infested by rats assuming that was the excuse she would use. Could it be that she was using orpiment?

“What are you thinking, girlie?” Zaveid asked. “That intense glare looks rather enticing if I do say so myself.” He leaned in near to her face with his hands resting on his hips.

“Really, Zaveid?” Mikleo criticized.

Rose crossed her arms in frustration. She didn’t have a lot of knowledge on ores and minerals, and Mikleo wasn’t himself so asking him about it was out of the question. “Edna had talked about orpiment and that it’s used in some pigments for paint. If Maltran is poisoning Alisha right under her nose, wouldn’t she use that?”

“Not exactly,” Lailah started. She wasn’t as savvy as Edna, either, but she knew a little more about the chemicals in paints and pigments than Rose. The arsenic in the paint wasn’t very toxic, but if it were to accumulate, the toxicity definitely would rise. It was a similar concept to mercury poisoning from eating too much contaminated tuna. It dawned on her. “We should hurry back to Alisha. If she has any paintings using orpiment anywhere, we need to get rid of them right away!”

They dashed back to Alisha’s terrace to find that she had collapse out of her wheelchair with her maid desperately trying to wake her. Rose hurriedly went up to her, pulling off the delicate white gloves to find distinct lines in her nails. “Dammit, how long has this been going on?!” she exclaimed. She turned to the maid, demanding that she tell her what she knew.

“I…I’m not supposed to say anything!” she confessed. “Maltran said that I would be thrown into the dungeon in the ruins under the city if I even mentioned her illness!”

“So you _listened_ to her?!” Rose yelled. Mikleo reminded her that not everyone knew that Maltran had turned on the princess.

“I had no choice!” The maid began to bawl for fear that Rose was going to kill her and begged her for forgiveness. Instead Rose called for Sorey to help carry the poisoned princess to her bedroom. “Princess, please forgive me…!” The maid followed after them, telling them that Maltran did in fact make tea for Alisha three times a day, but there was nothing in it. “I’ve tasted it myself, and I didn’t get sick.”

“But what about the paints?” Zaveid inquired while using Rose as his proxy. “Ask her about the orpiment!”

“It’s true that the paintings in Princess Alisha’s drawing room use the king’s pigment, but I was told that the arsenic in the pigment is so low that it would take decades to accumulate that much poison in her body,” the maid answered Rose.

Sorey tucked Alisha into her bed after painstakingly taking off her armor without revealing any of her undergarments. He placed a hot wet towel on her head to alleviate any headaches. After he had tended to her, he sent Lailah and Zaveid to find something that could help her like more water or easy-to-consume food such as soup. He then confronted the maid, accusing her of being an accomplice. “If you knew about the arsenic in the paintings, wouldn’t you have found it odd that Maltran would shove her into the room with all of them and lock her in there until she finished the tea?” There was no real way of knowing if she was forcing her into the toxic room or that she was locking it, but there was definitely incentive to do so.

“I…I didn’t know, I swear!”

To add to the confusion that was transpiring about the Shepherd and his Squires, Sergei from Pendrago’s forces burst through the doors with several Hyland guards pointing their spears at his back. In his hand was a letter that was fragranced by one of Alisha’s perfumes. He had a puzzled look on his face that transformed into something between fear and anger.

“Sergei?” Sorey uttered in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I was summoned by the Hyland authorities. They said that there was supposed to be negotiations for a peace treaty between the Rolance army and the Hyland army,” he said. But seeing Alisha in bed looking so frail, he knew at once that something was wrong. “They sent for me as the captain of the Rolance knights, but I don’t need a lot of evidence to know that there is some conniving going on.”

Rose asked for his assistance in finding Maltran before the guards again accosted him, and while Sergei hadn’t been acquainted with Alisha, he felt that a terrible injustice had befallen her. To be poisoned by the very person she looked up to and revered as an inspiration was deplorable. Even worse was the idea of using peace as bait for two people who wanted the senseless fighting between the armies to stop. But how did either army know of their peaceful ideology? Could there have been a spy?

Maltran emerged from the increasing sea of guards that were prepared to arrest the Rolance captain for trespassing into enemy territory and Alisha’s property, clapping slowly as she entered the room. Sorey could see the malevolence enshrouding her figure, dark as an abyss but yet alluring like a velvet black dress. There was a throbbing in his chest which brought him to his knees and made him retch. It had grown much stronger since they met her in Lefay, the Shrine of the Water Trial. He wasn’t sure if it was from Asura’s mythril sword or if it was augmented by Heldalf’s unleashed malevolence, but it prevented him from moving, and when Lailah and Zaveid return from their search for items to help Alisha, they were almost pushed out of the same plane as all the humans as it filled every square inch of the room. Mikleo, on the other hand, could feel the power in the evil stemming from the woman that had once strictly trained the princess. He relished it like it was his favorite ice cream, hugging himself and allowing himself to be filled by its presence.

“Hello, Pure Shepherd, what brings you and Captain Sergei to Alisha’s home on this fine day?” she mockingly asked. “Could it be you heard that she fell ill? Before that, do you even have permission to be here?”

“Bloody wench!” Sergei snarled. “You sent this letter, didn’t you! How dare you mock the dream shared among us!”

Maltran chuckled nastily as she summoned Asura’s sword from the pits of darkness. “Since you’re going to be executed now for trespassing and spying, I guess I should tell you,” she said. She took a step towards the debilitated group. “Chancellor Bartlow requested that we send you that letter; after all, Rolance without its strategic and dutiful captain, and Hyland without its idiotic self-righteous princess, Ladylake will be able to extend farther into your territory without so much as a problem. It was a bonus, however, to draw the Shepherd here. But I currently have no interest in you. My job is simply to kill any and all perpetrators for the safety of Ladylake!”

“Sorey, get up! You’ve got to help Sergei!” Lailah struggled to yell. She tried to armatize with him, but the malevolence was too strong. She and Zaveid could only watch him and Rose from the outside attempt to stop Maltran in her tracks.


	6. Peaceful Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did Sergei come to Alisha's bedroom? What is Maltran's motivation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two Easter eggs(?): Symonne gives us a SHAFT head tilt, and Zaveid becomes Space Dandy for exactly 1 second. I should draw what these images look like in my mind out of context.

Maltran folded the ivory-colored parchment paper neatly before stuffing it into the envelope and sealing it with the royal seal. She took Alisha’s favorite perfume and sprayed it liberally until the outside of the envelope was stained all over with the liquid. She handed the letter to a black-haired, red-eyed girl.

“You do well to deliver that letter at any cost,” she told the girl. “This is the perfect opportunity to garner more malevolence. We cannot waste it.”

The girl smiled evilly. “Of course, Lady Maltran, I wouldn’t have been a good right-hand girl to Heldalf if I didn’t fulfill my tasks,” she giggled.

“And Symonne, when you arrive in Pendrago, keep an eye on that meddlesome knight once you lay the trap. The only way this plan will work is if he takes the bait, after all.”

The fallen seraph leaned her head back with a nonchalant look on her face. She was ready to come back with sass on her, but she knew better than that. Maltran was now her new master, or maybe it was the other way around. Maltran had offered to help her increase the amount of malevolence in the Glenwood Continent in exchange for more power. Symonne had sweetened the pot when she joined her ranks by giving her a surefire way of killing Alisha without being suspected of a thing by her people.

Symonne used her power of illusion to teleport to the entrance to Pendrago with the letter in hand. She hopped over the wall, dropping the letter next to one of the guards doing his rounds around the famous fountain in the center of the northern district then sat on the edge of the fountain to observe the following events. A trio of knights had just finished training for the day when they saw it instead of the guard, picking it up and running to their captain in the knights’ tower. Symonne fell in line after them and vanished when the seed was planted.

“Captain Sergei,” one of the loyal knights called as he entered the tower. “We’ve received a letter from the Hyland Kingdom requesting a meeting for peaceful negotiations with their princess Alisha Diphda.”

Sergei, who had been doing paperwork verifying that his knights were in top shape to fight, looked up from his desk at him. He hadn’t had a good rest in days, but he accepted that this was all part of the job including seeing invitations before the king did. He took the letter from him, noticing that it must have been drenched in perfume because it smelled strongly of roses and lilacs and had the insignia of the royal family of Ladylake imprinted in its wax seal. He thought it was strange that a kingdom at war with his kingdom would be looking so quickly for a truce; it wasn’t bad, though. He welcomed the idea of putting all this needless violence and death behind them.

“Where did you find this?” he asked them.

“It was lying on the ground next to a guard,” one of them answered. “A messenger pigeon might have sent it and dropped it on the way to the king.”

“Probably.” Sergei scrutinized it for a little while; he dubiously flipped it over and over then finally opened the letter. He read aloud:

~~~  
I HOPE THIS LETTER FINDS YOU IN GOOD HEALTH. THE KINGDOM OF HYLAND WOULD LIKE TO ENGAGE IN DIPLOMATIC TALKS WITH THE KINGDOM OF ROLANCE. WE WILL SEND OUR ESTEEMED PRINCESS ALISHA DIPHDA, WHOM HAS A VISION FOR PEACE AND JUSTICE FOR OUR PEOPLE. WE REQUEST THAT THE KINGDOM OF ROLANCE SEND SOMEONE OF THE SAME IDEOLOGY SO THAT NEGOTIATIONS CAN PROGRESS WITHOUT PROBLEM.  
~~~

It was a straightforward letter, and while it was definitely addressed to the king and not him, it was a rather specific request. There was no signature by the king of Hyland. Suspicious indeed. Sergei rounded up his men, announcing his departure to Ladylake. He expressed his doubts about the invitation, going so far as to assume it was a trap for the king. He wanted peace, but he also couldn’t endanger his king. He was captain for a reason, and he was willing to die for his men and country before letting anyone else get hurt. After his knights wished him a safe journey, he rode on horseback from Pendrago to Ladylake all the way through the burned war zone that was the Glaivend Basin, where special cases were granted passage. He was going to get an audience with this “Alisha Diphda” and judge whether or not it was a trick. When he set foot into the beautiful city on the lake, he took precautions in case the civilians recognized his armor and tried to kill him. The goal was not to hurt people but to reach an understanding so that both parties benefited. He had hoped that Alisha would wish the same considering the letter had painted her to be a respectable young woman.

Seeing her in this state threw a wrench into his preconceived notions of that image. She looked like she was more than just on the brink of death, and if it weren’t for her shallow, labored breaths filling her aching lungs, he would have volunteered to prepare a service for her.

“How dare you use her dreams as bait, vile witch,” Sergei growled at Maltran as he reached for his sword after learning that it was a ploy. “How dare you use peace to further your evil ways.”

Sorey finally recovered from the overwhelming malevolence in the room, calling on Lailah to help him while Rose partnered with Zaveid. They armatized despite Lailah and Zaveid’s concerns, and Mikleo was left to wait on them, all the while absorbing more malevolence. As he witnessed the beginning of the battle between them and Alisha’s dear mentor, he felt jealousy stir in his heart. Even with all that darkness that he had pushed into Sorey’s soul, how could he not use him to fight? Was it because Lailah was the Prime Lord? Did her true name automatically pop into his head anytime he needed to fight instead of his name? If only he could, he would have forced Lailah out of the armatization and done it himself.

And whether or not it was obvious to the other seraphim that Mikleo didn’t like being pushed off to the side, they definitely felt the hatred he had for them. Sorey and Rose had gone in for an attack against Maltran to occupy her while Sergei tried to get her with one of his artes, but the malevolence in Mikleo peaked. The Shepherd and his Squire came crashing down. They lay paralyzed on the ground. It felt like their chests had been crushed with a boulder. Their voices cracked as they struggled to even breathe.

“Sorey! Rose! Are you okay?!” Sergei asked. He stopped his offense to check on them, which gave Maltran an opening. She had aimed for the dead center of his back between his shoulder pauldrons, but Sergei was no pushover in battle. He dodged out of the way, and his right arm was sliced.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she demanded callously. “The Shepherd and his Squire will only get you killed.

“You two have to get up!” he called out to them.

 _“Rose, hang in there! We just have to take this back-stabbing bitch down!”_ Zaveid told her. In the ephemeral space of her soul, he tried to pull her up from the ground. He couldn’t understand why Mikleo’s malevolence was affecting her. Then he thought that it was his own accumulated malevolence that had weakened her to such a condition.

 _“Sorey, I know you’re upset, but you have to focus on quelling Maltran,”_ Lailah reminded him. Her purity was being challenged by the malevolence her subordinate had instilled in him, and she tried as hard as she could to force it back down even if it was just for this one battle.

With the Shepherd and the Squire down for the count and the seraphim unable to get them back on their feet for the time being, Maltran was beginning to get bored from the inaction. She didn’t consider Sergei to be much of a threat despite his status as a captain of the Rolance army. Her target wasn’t any of them but Alisha, and the one thing that the seraphim remembered she had was her speed. She slid past her opponents with her malevolent sword ready to run through the heaving breast of the princess. This was the moment she had been waiting for—a chance to snuff out the useless hope that there would be a time where violence wasn’t necessary and that pain would be forgotten. As humans, it was impossible to live in that type of peace that Alisha had dreamed about. It didn’t matter who stood in her way, her hatred would cut them down.

The sound of metal clashing filled the room like a deafening siren, and black and white sparks speckled the air between Maltran and Sergei, who had deftly parried Asura’s sword in turn protecting Princess Alisha. The loathing noblewoman couldn’t believe that he could match her not only in dexterity but strength as well.

“If what you said in that letter about Princess Alisha is true, then I’m more than interested in carrying out peace talks with her,” he laughed. He pushed back on the sword until it had been completely deflected away from the sleeping beauty. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you two, but you have to get up! Alisha is depending on you!” He let out a sigh of encroaching exhaustion. “And I don’t know how much longer I can fight her by myself.”

Lailah forced Sorey to stand up, his armatization shining red as she exerted her power for him. He still looked like he was in pain, but now that he was standing it was somewhat easier to bear. Sorey tightened his grip on the handle of the Sacred Blade. Maltran didn’t even flinch, and she zoomed up to him ready to slice him in half, but he readily parried her as Rose came up to her side after recovering. She was in better shape than Sorey, which served them better. Rose matched her speed with Maltran when she rebounded off of Sorey’s parries until she was finally able to blow Asura’s sword out of her hands. The knights and the maid, who had been present this whole time, stepped back from the demonic-looking sword. They were afraid for their lives and feeding more to the malevolence building in the room.

“You think that by taking it out of my hands you’ve won?” she sneered. She drew her own weapon—a spear that looked very similar to Alisha’s—from its lock on her back. She would have preferred to kill the Shepherd and his Squire with the same weapon that a past Shepherd had wielded, but there was another type of satisfaction in using her own spear. “Trust me, girl, this battle is far from over.”

 _“She doesn’t know when to quit, does she?”_ Zaveid sighed.

“Lailah, can you use your arte yet?” Rose asked her.

“We’re almost ready,” Sorey coughed. The malevolence was again impeding his progress in the fight.

_“Let’s go ahead and use ours; might as well weaken her for him since he’s not doing too hot himself.”_

“Got it.” Rose channeled Zaveid’s power to unleash Sylphistia. She aimed the wind blades at Maltran, whom guarded against them but still took a decent amount of damage. She de-armatized so that Zaveid could wrap her in his pendulum chains. “Not so high and mighty now!”

Even while wrapped up, Maltran was laughing. Rose noticed something was odd; the hellion of the noblewoman was glaring at Sorey, her body emanating a disturbing amount of malevolence. It surged through Zaveid’s chains like electricity through a circuit, shattering them into millions of pieces as she once again targeted Sorey. Once she was close enough, she used her own Mystic Arte called Light Blast. Sorey’s defense had been buffered by Lailah’s armatization, but he still took a beating as she slammed the shaft of the spear into him before stabbing him in his abdomen. The armatization, though strong, couldn’t stop the amount of force behind the thrust. The Shepherd gripped at the wound. Sergei became angered that she had heavily damaged him, taking this chance to cut her down to size. He and Rose tag-teamed her, but off to the side, Mikleo was sickened that Sorey had been so brutally hurt. In fact, it was the one thing that tore him out his jealous thoughts tinged with the pleasurable malevolence.

“Sorey! Don’t worry; I’ll have you fixed up!” Lailah cried out. She readied her arte for Imbuement after separating from him, but Maltran snuck around Sergei and incapacitated her.

Mikleo took this chance to bind with Sorey. He armatized with him, used his Rejuvenation arte Elixir Vitae to help the wound heal some, and then focused on killing Maltran. _“I won’t let anyone hurt Sorey!”_ he growled.

“Mikleo…?” Sorey said. It was the first time in a while that he had felt not malevolence but a sense of duty to protect albeit with the anger brought on by the negativity. His body heated up from Mikleo’s passion, and he felt comfortable placing his trust in him again. He was still foggy-headed, but their bond gave them a slight boost in power that wasn’t present when he bonded with Zaveid or Lailah. “Alright, let’s do this!”

Mikleo kept his aim on Maltran while Sorey shot the barrage of liquid arrows at her. Sergei and Rose also pinned her down while Zaveid used his wind powers to weaken her armor. When she was coming to the end of her rope, Mikleo and Sorey used Aqua Limit to finally kill her.

“I still don’t understand,” Sorey told her as she was fading into darkness. “What did Alisha do to make you hate her so much?”

Maltran lay on the ground, the light of life leaving her eyes. “That purity…her self-righteous attitude disgusted me. Before I knew it, I became a hellion out of hatred, and I just wanted her to suffer,” she wheezed.

“That was it?” Sorey clenched his fists. “You wanted her dead because you didn’t like her?”

Maltran’s body disintegrated into black flames, which Sorey tried to and failed to purify; her tired smile burned into his memories. The malevolence that was in her was far too great, and it didn’t help that his own heart was becoming more and more clouded. Mikleo de-armatized, his rage subsiding now that he had destroyed the one who dared to hurt the man he loved.

“Sorey, are you okay?” he asked desperately. Sorey gave him a half-smile before turning to Alisha’s bed to where Sergei had rushed. “S-Sorey…?” He timidly reached for his hand that passed his.

Sergei and Lailah shook and touched Alisha’s cheek, respectively, finding that she felt cooler than normal. Lailah immediately set to work in healing her, praying to herself that there was still time to save her. Often times with arsenic poisoning, the victim could fall into a coma. If Alisha had gone while they were fighting, there would be little to no hope to bring peace to the two kingdoms.

“Please…please wake up,” Lailah quietly begged. She concentrated long and hard with her Imbuement arte. The arte was draining her of her remaining strength, but she refused to give up.

“Don’t just stand there! Go get a doctor!” Rose ordered the knights and maid. “Alisha’s in bad shape!” The knights and maid hurried off in search of a royal physician with their tails between their legs. 

Zaveid watched as Lailah pushed herself farther and farther to nullify the toxins in the princess as best as she could. He was aware that all seraphim learned at least one arte that was capable of healing, but how strong their magic was determined how much healing would get done in a given amount of time. He joined the effort; his magic wasn’t as strong as Lailah, but he wanted to help take some of the burden off her shoulders. Part of him expected Mikleo to join since he was capable of two healing artes—including one that could remedy poison—but he reminded himself that Mikleo was still a threat no matter how helpful he was in putting down Maltran. Even that bit of passion and concern he had for Sorey might not have been real in the grand scheme of things but simply a by-product of the malevolence swirling around in him. He wanted to ask the Shepherd about it, but given the current circumstances, it had to wait.

After a physician finally came, he reported that Alisha was doing better. Rose and Sorey remembered that they couldn’t see Lailah and Zaveid, though the physician—a devout believer—assumed it to be the blessing of the seraph that protected the city. It was a relief that Alisha was remarkably going to be okay, but Mikleo wasn’t satisfied. He had hoped that she died in spite of what had transpired; he wanted Sorey to despair more. It wasn’t his plan per say for all of this to happen, but it would have been nice if it worked out in his favor.

Sergei told Sorey that he would watch over Alisha for the time being in the company of a few Hyland guards while they rested at the inn. He noticed Sorey looked tired despite having been stabbed and healing extremely fast thanks to Mikleo. The kind Shepherd simply told him that his team had been busy for the past days. Rose promised to take care of him, escorting him back to the inn. There, Rose forced him to take a bath while keeping an eye on Mikleo, who had become very subdued in the past hour.

“Do you think he’s sad about Alisha?” she whispered to Lailah and Zaveid.

“He’s upset that Alisha didn’t die,” Zaveid bluntly responded. “He was banking on her death to increase the despair in Sorey, but Lailah managed to save her.”

“I couldn’t do it without your help, you know,” Lailah cheerfully told him, making him blush for a second. “Still, I’m surprised I was able to save her. Perhaps the arsenic wasn’t the only thing making her ill.”

“Do you think the malevolence had part in it?” Rose asked.

“Yes. Alisha isn’t as pure as Sorey, but she still has a high resonance with seraphim. The building stress of dealing with her subjects as well as the stress from war might have made her sick, and Maltran took advantage of that to poison her with her paintings. Not to mention the high levels of malevolence that were—”

Zaveid stretched and tipped his hat. “Well, there’s no point in trying to figure out what happened now. That bitch is dead, and this little brat didn’t get his way in the end. It’s all dandy, baby.”

“It’s not any reason to let our guard down,” Lailah pouted.

Sorey emerged from the bathroom, his clothes haphazardly put on to the point that some of the buttons of his shirt were mismatched. He told his friends that he was going to sleep for a bit before flopping on the bed next to Mikleo. The water seraph didn’t say or do anything. He might have been disappointed that Sorey didn’t become more corrupt, but he still worried about him. They watched in suspecting silence as he pulled the sheet from underneath him and place it over his body. He gave him a gentle kiss on the head before curling up next to him and taking hold of his hand. Rose, Lailah, and Zaveid exchanged dubious looks before going to bed themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems like a cockamamie chapter in the beginning, but I think I'm proud of how it ended? Also there's going to be a very short break on all fiction (like 2 or 3 days). I'll start it back up on Monday when I don't have to study for organic chemistry.


	7. Cobalt Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All aboard the feels train!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was not planned in its entirety. I thought you and the characters needed a break from the stuff that happened in the past two chapters. (I also need time to think things through.)

It was a snowy night back in Elysia, and the elder seraphim were inside their homes staying warm with hot cocoa or blankets or fireplaces. Sorey and Mikleo were in the former’s home once again rummaging through piles of books trying to find out what they hadn’t memorized from their collection of architectural records.

“Hmm, have we thought about looking in these ruins?” Sorey asked his friend as he laid a book out in front of him. “The Celestial Record already has a lot of information on them, but you never know what you can find.”

“We could potentially find something in them that hasn’t been discovered yet,” Mikleo added. “The author said that there is a possibility that there are hidden rooms with treasure. When should we go?”

“You know what I’ll say.”

“No, we can’t go tomorrow. That’s at least a five-day trip from here.”

“Right…well, that’s a bummer.”

Mikleo looked over at him as he scanned the books for more opportunities to explore. His chestnut hair was a mess; he had gone the whole day without brushing it because he was so excited to explore more ruins. It made his heart race; the enthusiasm that shined in Sorey’s innocent eyes reinforced the love he had for him. He had always wanted to run his delicate fingers through his hair when they lay in the grass together or when Mikleo was staying over for the night. Would Gramps think it was weird for them to show such affection for each other? He shifted his gaze to the scuffed floorboards of Sorey’s house. It saddened him that after so many years of living under the same roof, the pure human had to begin living in his own house. He was aware that humans transitioned when they were old enough, and that transition was something of a more vulgar nature that seraphim did not necessarily have an interest in observing. That is, most other seraphim weren’t interested in the blossoming of a human and typically found love among themselves away from the wretched beings. Gramps most likely didn’t feel that Sorey’s maturing was something that the young water seraph should have been kept from, but perhaps that the nature of it might have been something that would make him curious about the habits of humans which would have invited malevolence into his heart.

He had read in one of the many books that human puberty was a time in which people became vulnerable to their feelings despite working to become more independent and self-sufficient, but it was only until a certain age after which they began to control themselves. Gramps had been keeping track of the years that Sorey had lived in Elysia in case it was ever needed for legal uses.

“Mikleo?” Sorey asked. He waved a hand in front of his eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“What was I thinking? H-How…cute you are when you get excited about ruins,” Mikleo bashfully yet thoughtlessly responded. “W-Wait, you didn’t hear that!”

“Aw, you think I’m cute! I knew you had a soft spot for me, but I didn’t think it was _that_ soft!”

“I-I don’t have a soft spot! I just felt like being nice!”

“In that case, I’ll be nice. You’re cute when you get so flustered!”

“S-Sorey!”

His smile lit up the room like a million candles. The warmth in it was unmatched even by the sun. Even if it would be odd to the other seraphim, within Mikleo burned not only a passionate desire to protect that smile and the kind soul it belonged to but to receive and give the love it radiated. He hesitantly crawled to him, curious about what that smile felt like yet afraid of the repercussions of that thirst for knowledge.

“Are you okay?” Sorey asked him when the water seraph was only inches from his face. His violet eyes had become dreamy, his whole being persuaded into knowing the Sorey he grew up with more intimately than anyone else. “Hello? Are you in there?”

Mikleo, snapping back to reality, recoiled away from him. His bosom was on fire not from the burgeoning love in him but from the embarrassment that he almost acted on his desire. Yet he wanted to kiss him. He knew he couldn’t without Sorey’s permission, but he yearned for him.

“I-I’m sorry, Sorey,” he stuttered. He couldn’t bear to look him in the face, not when he nearly forced himself onto him.

Sorey rested his hand gently on Mikleo’s, still holding that maidenly smile as if nothing he did was ever wrong. The brunet leaned in slowly; it was an invitation for the nervous seraph. It was reassuring. Mikleo leaned in as well while turning his head just slightly so that their noses didn’t collide. Only centimeters away from Sorey’s lips, Mikleo recoiled again. It felt wrong to feel this kind of emotion for someone he at times viewed as a brother than a best friend. So many people would chastise him, reprimand him, or possibly denounce him from the pure state of being a seraph for chasing the sweetness that resided in Sorey.

“I can’t,” he quivered.

Love was a burden. Its temptation was attractive.

“It’s okay. No one will know about it,” Sorey told him as he lightly ran his finger down his cheek. It dawned on him that maybe Mikleo was afraid that things would go too far. “A kiss never hurt anyone. I used to kiss you all the time when we were kids, after all.”

“But it’s…different, isn’t it?”

“How?”

“If we kiss now, it won’t be an innocent child’s kiss. Sorey, this feeling…it scares me!” The seraph was visibly trembling. “A kiss in a love like this—I don’t want to fall because of this love!”

“You won’t fall, Mikleo.”

“How do you know?”

Sorey pulled him into his embrace, hugging him so tightly that Mikleo’s body made his shake. His legs encircled him. His arms fit perfect into the slight curves of his waist, and they felt so strong. “How can a mutual love taint anyone?” he whispered into his ear.

The words melted Mikleo, and as he tried to fathom how that logic could work, he slowly uncurled his arms from between their chests and let them wrap around Sorey’s broad torso. But no matter how much the Shepherd told him that everything he was doing was fine, accepting one another felt like a step into the Garden of Eden, consummating their love like a bite from the bittersweet Forbidden Fruit.

Mikleo stared at the room that they were sitting in as he continued to hold onto his dear friend. The fire’s light had touched most of it, but there were still those corners that were shrouded in darkness. He knew they were just the shadows cast by the different knickknacks that Sorey had collected from their travels to different ruins, but there was something so ominous about them. Either his eyes were playing tricks on him, or perhaps the anxiety and uncertainty of his feelings fed them, but the shadows were stretching farther. It was unnoticeable at first, but he kept watching them. They undulated and danced. Would a demon’s hands burst from them to spirit them away and coerce them to sin together?

“Sorey, please don’t ever let me go,” Mikleo requested. His arms reached up his back and around his arms; he wanted to be his shield. That was his purpose—he gave Sorey his true name long ago so that he could keep him safe not just for the world but for himself as well.

“I won’t. Nothing bad will happen to you.”

The shadows were still growing.

“Say my true name,” Mikleo begged him.

“But why?” Sorey counter-questioned.

“Please, just say it.”

“But why do we need to armatize?”

“I want to keep you safe! Don’t you see them? The shadows are getting bigger!”

“Let them grow; they can’t touch us. This is what we were born for—to be the Shepherd and Sub-Lord together. There is nothing to fear in the darkness because we’re the light that will save the world.”

Sorey pulled back a little so that he could see Mikleo’s tear-stained eyes before he brushed his lips against his, pressing into them with the confidence he had always had in himself. Just as Mikleo had imagined at some point in time, they tasted like the nectar of sunflowers and daffodils. It was intoxicating like ambrosia. One touch had kept him grounded, but a kiss washed his worries, insecurities, and anxieties away for a brief moment.

“Why can’t I love you like I want to?” Mikleo began to sob. He broke the lock between them to wipe his eyes. “Why did I have to be born a seraph? Why couldn’t I be human so I could love you without fear of the malevolence taking over?”

“You _can_ love me because I love you.”

Mikleo finally lost himself to the desperation in his heart. He kissed Sorey deeply, holding his head close by his neck while the hot tears rolled down and fell between them. The shadows reached the ceiling almost laughing at them. Mikleo tried his hardest to keep his emotions in check so that he wouldn’t trespass any farther than he had gone now. Sorey was a gracious angel to him. He couldn’t afford to scare him away.

Sorey took up his hand as they parted, intertwining his fingers and giving them a squeeze. He wiped away the last tear with his thumb. He was saying something, but the water seraph couldn’t hear him. The shadows in the room started to shrink away, the morning sun breaching through the windows in Sorey’s home. Everything was shrouded in light.

***

Mikleo woke to find that Lailah, Zaveid, and Rose were still asleep. He turned to Sorey, whom was awake and was looking at him with concerned emerald eyes. His entire arm had been wrapped up in the water seraph’s grip, and he could only imagine that he must have woken him up during the night. But Sorey was kind. He allowed him the solace of holding onto him as he dreamt.

“Sorey?” Mikleo uttered. “Did I wake you?”

“Not really,” Sorey whispered back. “You were crying last night.”

Mikleo’s eyes fell from his gaze as they lay so close together on the bed. Part of him was relieved that it was only a dream, but another part of him, deep in his eroding soul, wanted to scream in frustration that it _was_ only a dream. The purity in him was struggling; he could feel it. Lying next to the one he loved staved it off, but the second that they would get and continue on with their lives, the malevolence would come back stronger than before.

“I’m…I don’t know how I feel anymore…” Mikleo replied; his whisper little more than forced breaths on Sorey’s chest. “I don’t want to lose you, but I fear I might hurt you.” Mikleo let go of him, sat up, and looked back at him. “Sorey, if I turn into a dragon because of everything I’ve done, don’t be afraid to strike me down. I’ll understand, okay?”

Sorey shot up. “I-I won’t kill you! And I definitely won’t let you turn into a dragon! I swear it!”

The Shepherd, worried for his dear friend and the pain he was going through in both resisting and accepting the malevolence that was pooling in the seat of his soul, pulled him backwards into his body for an embrace. He had to do something to stop the poison from killing the one he had loved so unconditionally. But without any leads on why things were getting worse, did he really have the power to save him? Could he really save the other seraphim from their draconic fates? He wanted to ask Lailah what to do, but he was certain that she would keep to her oath even in his time of need. When the rest of his friends woke, he decided that he was going to ask them where they could find help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small analysis of the chapter title: Cobalt is a dark blue hue. While the name of the song I was listening to while writing this chapter is called "Cobalt" by Enzalla, the implication of the color I think reflects Mikleo--he's struggling the darkness that is malevolence, yet he's still retaining a piece of himself which is his love for Sorey. Respite is more of a fourth wall deal because, really, I need to calm down a little. :D


	8. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey wants to get moving so he can help Mikleo, but everyone else has different plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when Chancellor Bartlow was a guy? Yeah me too. Actually just remembered him.

Sorey petted Mikleo as he dozed back to sleep. Seeing him so uncomfortable was always hard, but with the malevolence in him threatening to stir up trouble again, it was better that he was unconscious. And besides, when he slept, he appeared to revert back to the sweetheart with whom he had grown up.

Rose and Lailah roused in the bed next to them, and they weren’t surprised that they had found the two in each other’s company. Sorey motioned that they stay as quiet as possible until Mikleo had gone back to sleep. He then shot Lailah a look of urgency. When he was sure that Mikleo could no longer hear them, he carefully removed himself from the bed. His mouth came right up to the fire seraph’s ear:

“We have to help Mikleo,” he whispered. “Who can we go to?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Lailah sadly said. “I can’t break my oath.”

“Don’t you understand how much he’s hurting?”

“Sorey, you’ve got to let it go,” Rose joined in. “He’ll be fine as long as we keep him away from the malevolence, won’t he?”

Again Lailah remained silent. “Oh, we should go check on Alisha today before we move on,” she suggested out of the blue. She was clearly dodging the question, yet Rose was glad for that considering that she looked so uncomfortable when Sorey was asking her about the malevolence. “I think now that I’ve rested, I can provide some more assistance to her in her condition.” She touched her fingertips together like she always did when she was happy. “And I think it would be a good idea to notify Sergei that we’ll be leaving Ladylake for now.”

“Speaking of which, he needs to get back to Pendrago or else his own kingdom might try to do the same to him,” Rose continued.

Sorey sat back with a stern face. How could they worry about someone else and not Mikleo? He caught himself—was the malevolence starting to affect him? Sergei was a friend, and he treasured all of his friends.

Zaveid, who had been sleeping next to the window, finally woke up in response to the light shining on his face. He was still drowsy but could manage a hearty, “Good morning!” He slowly stood up as the stiffness in his limbs broke. He asked what the game plan was, to which Rose and Lailah answered heading back to Alisha’s mansion.

After waking Mikleo up and eating breakfast, the Shepherd and his friends made their way to the nobles’ district. The people in the city still scoffed and insulted him and would continue to do so even after he left. He didn’t hold it against them even though it still stung like bees in his heart that he had saved their princess.

“Sorey, watch it,” the wind seraph warned him. “You’re getting upset by all this again. Just let it go.”

Alisha’s gate was protected by a few guards just as Sergei had requested. They recognized Sorey, granting him access to her home after one had gone in to announce his arrival. As they walked down the hall to Alisha’s room, they happened to pass by someone they would have given their life to avoid. He had always held such a disdainful countenance whenever he was in any association with the princess. Today was no different; in fact, he was almost furious that Alisha was still alive.

“Good morning, Shepherd,” he hissed.

“Good morning, Chancellor Bartlow,” Sorey replied more cautiously than upset. “What brings you to Alisha’s manor?”

“I was simply checking to see how she was doing. After hearing that Maltran had committed treason against her, naturally I—as part of the council—would come to make sure she was recovering just fine.”

“Really,” Rose said. She knew he was lying through his teeth. She didn’t say anymore when Zaveid nudged her foot with his. Starting a scene now was not a good idea.

“Yes, _really_. If you would like, I can offer a progress report for her.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’re on our way to check on her ourselves,” Sorey told him. The formality in his tone was something surprising as it caused a miniscule change in the old man’s expression.

Lailah placed a hand on Sorey’s back, whispering to him that Chancellor Bartlow had a significant amount of malevolence radiating from him. It was to be expected, however, because he had always hated Alisha for her righteous thinking and endeavors for peace. War was where the money was. Without war, the Hyland Kingdom’s economy would fall, which would set in motion a destruction of other labor forces and factors. And besides, all of this talk of peace would never be attained since the Shepherd hadn’t done anything about the other problems in other places.

Zaveid also watched Mikleo’s reaction to the flood of malevolence. The water seraph was hugging himself as it washed over him, but he couldn’t tell if he was taking pleasure in it or if it was painful. Then he caught a glimpse of his glazing eyes. Mikleo was watching Chancellor Bartlow like he was reading some sort of erotic novel. Things were getting worse.

“Sorey, cut the chitchat with this deadbeat,” Zaveid said. “His malevolence is affecting you-know-who.”

Sorey turned back to the chancellor effectively ending the conversation with a formal closing. As Chancellor Bartlow made his way down the hall to the entrance of the mansion, Mikleo regained himself, but he still wore a wicked smile. He kept it hidden from those in his company. Inside his now silver head, he was beginning to formulate another plan—another way to fill Sorey with despair and hatred for humanity. It was so simple! Why rely on someone that would go out of her way to boast that she wanted the princess dead when he could use someone that would do anything to keep it a secret because his reputation was on the line?

But how would he even get a chance to talk to Bartlow? Zaveid and Lailah were still attached to Sorey like the leeches they were. Then there was also Sergei, who would aptly take care of any threat during his time in Ladylake. Conditions weren’t as optimal as they could be if he were to try and implement his plan now.

Sorey and Rose entered Alisha’s bedroom with the seraphim at their feet. Remarkably, Alisha was sitting up in her bed with a cup of tea. She still looked sick, but at least she had come out of her poisoning-induced coma. If she hadn’t been helped by the seraphim, she would have most likely died, and she knew that.

“Sorey, please let Lailah and the other seraphim that I am in their debt,” Alisha said.

“Aw, this sweet babe of a princess is in my debt!” Zaveid cooed.

“She’s out of your league,” Lailah reminded him.

Sergei got up from the chair he had pulled up to her bed. He gave a slight bow to the band of heroes. “I’m happy to officially report that there were no adversaries last night, and that Alisha is on her way to a speedy recovery,” he declared.

“You don’t have to say it like that!” the princess giggled. There was a tint of pink on her cheeks as she looked up at him.

Rose threw a thumb up and flashed a refreshingly childish smile. “Awesome! Looks like you’ll be better in no time!” she congratulated.

“If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to send for us,” Sorey told her. He proceeded to say that it was time that he and his friends left for another city to find out why the malevolence was so high. Alisha’s eyes darkened somewhat in hearing that, but Sergei promised that he would be there at every beck and call. “Sergei’s a great guy. You can count on him!”

“S-Sorey, stop it!” Sergei sheepishly said.

Alisha carried on a conversation with Sorey and Rose and Sergei, her blooming smile almost dissipating a small amount of malevolence in everyone. It made Mikleo sick, and he wanted her at the very least far away from Sorey. If they could spend one more night in Ladylake, then he could do something about her.

Meanwhile Zaveid pulled Lailah to the side away from everyone else and out of earshot from the water seraph. He kept a mark on him in case he tried to eavesdrop on their conversation. When he looked down at the beautiful fire seraph, he questioned if what he was about to tell was the right thing to do. Leaving her alone with Mikleo while both were tethered to Sorey caused him much anxiety. He liked to think that he was a buffer among everyone connected to the Shepherd, and to an extent he was, just like everyone else. Removing himself from the equation voluntarily, breaking his pact with Lailah so he could work without Mikleo knowing about it would make Lailah have to take the brunt of the malevolence coming from the tainted seraph. She would also have to protect Sorey from him at the expense of her own life.

Then he remembered Edna. He had promised Eizen to kill and protect her, but Mikleo snatched her away. Would he do that to Lailah, too? If Zaveid left the group, then wouldn’t that enable his enemy to cut her out of the way?  
Zaveid couldn’t bear to look Lailah in the eyes. He couldn’t bear the thought of separating from them after they had been through so much in the short amount of time they had gotten to know each other.

“Lailah, are you able to reside in Rose instead of Sorey?” he asked.

“If you mean by armatizing, then yes,” she replied.

“I mean like how you do with Sorey when you stay inside.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never found a reason to try.”

Zaveid gritted his teeth in frustration. Armatizing would protect Rose but leave Sorey vulnerable to Mikleo’s manipulation. He knew that as Prime Lord, Lailah did have jurisdiction over Mikleo’s power and could stop him from anything as long as he didn’t think to break the pact. And he wouldn’t. Breaking the pact with Lailah would mean that Mikleo would almost automatically turn into a dragon.

“Lailah, this is very difficult to ask you, but can you please null our pact?” Zaveid seriously asked. Lailah’s eyes widened in disbelief. She was going to lose another source of support. “I know, it’s the last thing you want to hear, but I can’t stop feeling that we’re missing something important.”

“You do understand what could happen, right? We’ve accumulated a lot of malevolence, and Sorey’s soul has been keeping us sane albeit with great difficulty. If you break the pact, you run the risk of becoming a dragon,” Lailah cautioned. “I would rather that you at least wait a little longer when there is no other choice.”

“But that’s dangerous in itself!”

“If you leave, Mikleo will have a bigger influence on Sorey. Please, Zaveid.”

Lailah held onto Zaveid’s hand pleadingly. She didn’t want to fight Mikleo alone, and she didn’t want another one of her friends to disappear. Zaveid had to comply.

“I’m sorry,” Alisha said. “I got so wrapped up in wanting to know how your adventure had been going that I didn’t realize that I’m invading on your time to travel.”

Sorey and Rose assured her it was no problem. The brunet was somewhat anxious about leaving because Mikleo had been crying last night, but telling her that something was wrong with Mikleo or even divulging the details of what happened in their encounter with Heldalf would frighten her. He couldn’t tell her so many things because he would only lose her favor.

Mikleo came up behind Sorey and wrapped his arms around him. This was an opportunity to stay the night. “Keep talking with her and Sergei,” he said as if giving his permission to continue wasting time. “We’re in no real rush.”

“But we have to see what’s wrong with you,” Sorey half-whispered back at him.

“Something’s wrong with Mikleo?” Alisha asked. It had been a while since she heard his voice, but she still remembered it.

“Who’s Mikleo?” Sergei interrogated.

“Mikleo is one of Sorey’s seraphim. He’s a sweet boy.”

“A-Ah, Mikleo’s been feeling under the weather for a while! He…He ate some bad food that Lailah made!” Rose lied.

“Oh, my. Well I hope he gets better, but if he’s still feeling sick, don’t you think he should rest?” Alisha suggested.

“H-He rested all of yesterday!” Sorey added.

“I still feel sick,” Mikleo said. He feigned a few coughs, eliciting a stern scolding from the princess about how pushing the seraphim to work when they were sick was mean-spirited and akin to slavery. “You need to take better care of us, Sorey!” He pushed Sorey farther and farther so that they would stay just one more night. Burying his face into his back, he added, “I feel like I’m going to faint.”

“M-Mikleo!” Sorey panicked.

Lailah and Zaveid listened on the conversation. If the burly wind seraph could get a hold of Siegfried, then it would be safer to break the pact. It seemed like a good idea, and it worked for both of them. The graceful fire seraph approached Sorey and reassured that it would be okay to spend just one night extra in Ladylake. It was bending to the troublemaker’s will, but it wasn’t a bad trade-off.

“I know you want to help him, but Alisha does have a point that Mikleo should rest,” she explained. “If he’s sick, then he won’t be much use in battle.”

Sorey let out an exasperated groan. He bid Alisha farewell after notifying that he wouldn’t visit her in the morning. Alisha was perfectly fine with that as long as Mikleo was getting the help he needed; Sergei jumped in to add that he would be staying with her again that night just to be safe. He requested that they meet at the gate in the morning.

When Sorey’s group had returned to the inn for a third night, Mikleo headed to the bathroom to celebrate with himself that things were going according to plan. With them staying the night again, he would be able to see Chancellor Bartlow and feed on his malevolence. Yes, he will have augmented the malevolence in Sorey soon enough after too long of not doing anything. Suddenly the bathroom door opened to reveal a towel-clad Sorey.

“A-Ah, Sorey! You’re joining me?” Mikleo happily asked.

“Why were you begging for us to stay the night again? We need to help you lose malevolence,” Sorey chastised as he got into the warm, soapy water. He wasn’t angry per say, but he had hoped that the innocence he saw last night was something of a sign that Mikleo was getting better.

“But I like it.” Mikleo approached him sneakily like a stalking lion. He circled around to behind his master so quietly that the water barely had any ripples. “After all, I can feel so many new things. Things that we wouldn’t have been allowed to know if we had remained pure.”

They were alone. Lailah and Rose wouldn’t dare come in, and Zaveid had been rather preoccupied for most of the day. _They were completely alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm warning you all now, but the next chapter will have some sexual harassment. Not anything super drastic, but I'm letting you know that now.


	9. A Single Drop to Form Ripples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Zaveid operating on his own, Lailah is the only seraph left to fight against Mikleo's influence. Only one question remains now: Is she too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-consensual groping in this chapter. It also turns out that I've been describing the soul space incorrectly, but I went through each chapter and corrected it. (o.o)/ Also chapter title is a paraphrase from a line from KOKIA's Chouwa Oto ~with Reflection~.

While Sorey and Mikleo were bathing, and while Rose had gone to the lobby for something to eat, Zaveid searched for the revolver that was named Siegfried. Lailah was posted by the door in case any one of them came back before he had found what he was looking for. But even if he had Siegfried, he didn’t have any bullets, and to have more made for the gun was a steep price. On top of that, he was invisible to humans. He wondered if he could ask Rose to find some on the black market for him, but then she would want to know why he needed the gun back in the first place. If she learned that he was leaving, he couldn’t help but think that she would be extremely heartbroken. He took Dezel’s place, and while he had always known he could never replace him, he wanted to look out for her as his obligation to him.

“Zaveid, I know you won’t change your mind, but are you sure this is something you want to do?” Lailah asked him softly. She walked up to him, her white hair that faded into a rich pink swaying majestically behind her as the petticoat in her dress bobbed up and down with each step. She took Zaveid’s hand and searched his eyes for a definite answer.

“C’mon, a strong, pretty girl like you has nothing to worry about. Uncle Zaveid will be back before you know it, and I’ll renew my pact with you to take some of the load off your hands,” he tried to laugh. The smile didn’t last long; the reality that there was a very slim chance of rescuing anyone was hitting him. He couldn’t promise that he would be back before Mikleo tried anything against her. Of course, he couldn’t tell her that either. “Lailah, I know those kids never did get used to me, but at the very least, please tell them I will do whatever I can to help Mikleo and to stop the malevolence from spreading.”

Lailah offered him a tearful smile. She hugged him then commenced his release from her command. A swirl of magically lights erupted from the floor, and she took his hands. She willed herself to stay strong as became his own entity again, yet she feared that he would turn into a dragon in no time. She prayed for him, and after his pact was broken, they wait for a couple of minutes to see what would happen.

He didn’t turn. Not after one minute. Not after five or ten. They both breathed a sigh of relief.

“As my last order of business with you, Zaveid, please,” the Prime Lord obliged. “Find out how we can undo all the pain we’ve caused.”

“You got it.” 

Zaveid opened the window and leapt out of the room. He managed to skip along a few rooftops before falling to his knees on someone’s balcony. He doubled over in pain and nausea. Perhaps being in the company of the Shepherd and his posse had buffered his resistance, or maybe Lailah’s presence offered something like a veil on the bedroom. Whatever had been protecting him was gone now, and he was feeling the full force of the malevolence that had been cultured in Ladylake. He had to find a way to get more of the bullets that would preserve him until he could learn the truth. He was much older than most of the seraphim that Sorey and Rose had come to befriend, and he knew just as much as Lailah. He would have to search out the Storyteller of Time.

At the moment that Zaveid had nulled his pact with Lailah, Rose had felt like she dropped something in the lobby of the inn. She got up from her chair, closely examining the floor for anything that was familiar to her.

“Miss, are you alright?” the innkeeper asked her. “Did you lose something?”

“You know, I’m not entirely sure,” Rose replied to her. “I guess it was just my imagination. It really felt like I did lose something, though.”

***

“M-Mikleo, what are you doing…?” Sorey asked his water seraph fearfully. Mikleo embraced him from behind, making sure that he could feel his lower half pushing against him. He ran his hands down his chest, lightly grazing the tips of his nipples with his slender fingers. He kept one hand firm so that he could keep him close, and the other hand graduated from just touching one of his sensitive nubs to twisting it until Sorey let out breathy, uneasy whines. “M-Mik…Mikleo…!”

Sorey never knew that such a trivial part of his body could be so fragile under these circumstances. Even when he had learned that his body would begin to change with the transition into adulthood, he was always skilled in pushing such thoughts out of his mind the second they reared. He had thanked living with the seraphim for that since any normal human would have done anything to milk those feelings of the pleasure they often led to. It was different this time, though. There was no pleasure in it. There was only anxiety and discomfort and embarrassment. He didn’t want to experience things like this and definitely not with Mikleo the way he was.

“Mikleo, please…stop…” he whimpered. Mikleo continued.

The tainted water seraph, having become uninterested in the fearful mewling of his prey, moved his hand to his belly. Again he lightly touched him, occasionally applying some pressure just under his naval. He maintained his hold on his chest, this time scooping up one of his hands in an iron grip that crushed his fingers.

He reveled in Sorey’s reactions, and he knew that once he got down to where all of his desire was sure to be collecting and helped him release it, he would be his. They would be happy together!

“It’ll be fine, Sorey. Once you get used to this, it really starts to feel good,” Mikleo promised him.

“I don’t like this! Please stop…!”

When his fingers glided over his naval back up to his chest, Sorey instinctively squirmed. It made him feel sick, his breath escaping him as if he had gotten punched in the stomach. He wanted to break free; Mikleo wasn’t too hard to overpower, but he knew how to make him freeze up. He didn’t want to hurt him either. Mikleo’s nails dug into his belly.

Then the seraph softened up with his wandering hand. Sorey had thought he was done. There was nothing else to do to him, right? Was there still some kindness in Mikleo that he would let him go? He would gladly forget this happened. He wouldn’t tell anyone about what he had done!

“Sorey, don’t you feel what I’m feeling? I want to be inside you so bad,” Mikleo hummed in his ear. He ran his fingers through his hair almost too delicately for his liking. That was when Sorey noticed that Mikleo’s facilities were slowly hardening behind him, pressing into the curvature of his ass. The poor Shepherd was so scared, too scared to move. “I promise; it only hurts for a moment.”

Mikleo’s hands returned on their path to Sorey’s lower half, rolling his sack in his hand before tracing the faint line in the center of them up to where his cock extended. He seemed displeased that Sorey wasn’t aroused by his “ministrations”. When he stroked him just once, Sorey again squirmed and shut his eyes tightly. He felt that same hand swiftly move to his behind, and where he felt Mikleo’s burning tool he felt his thin finger again tracing his body. Mikleo bit down on his shoulder as he tried to sneak his finger between the two cheeks, and finally without realizing it, he had the strength and the maneuverability to escape!

Sorey put as much distance the bath tub would allow between him and Mikleo. His wrist was bruised from his best’s friend’s grip, and his emerald eyes filled with tears. His heart was pounding away in his chest, chiseling away at his ribcage so that it might jump out of him. His skin was cold and pale. He had never been so afraid, violated, and humiliated. But he couldn’t bring himself to hate Mikleo.

“You’re not yourself,” he whimpered. “You’re not yourself. You’re not yourself. You’re not yourself.” Each time he repeated that simple distressed statement, Sorey was closer and closer to breaking down while forcing himself to forget that Mikleo had tried to force him. “ _You’re not yourself_. It’s the malevolence. It’s the malevolence. _It’s the malevolence_.”

Something made Mikleo take pity on him. He took a step forward, sloshing through the steaming bathwater with his erection subsiding upon realizing just how terrified his friend was. He reached for him and caught his wrist before Sorey ripped it out of his hand. He was trembling just as pathetically as the water seraph had in his dream the night before.

“S-Sorey…Sorey, I’m sorry!” Mikleo panicked. “I didn’t mean to push you like that! Please forgive me! I don’t know what came over me!” He quickly snapped him up into a hug, holding him tight despite his struggle. He hugged him progressively tighter, and he made sure that he didn’t get carried away. He had to remember Sorey was so fragile; the slightest wrong movement at this point would deter him from having anything to do with him ever again. “I’m sorry…” His eyes were dark and calculating hidden behind Sorey’s head.

Sorey’s muscles relaxed slowly once he registered that Mikleo wasn’t intending to hurt him anymore. His breathing eased. They parted enough so they could look into each other’s eyes; the brunet searched his eyes for a reason for attacking him.

“You’re not yourself,” he murmured once more, the words puffing out onto the porcelain lips that parted to steal a simple chaste peck. He finally calmed down enough to vow to Mikleo that he wouldn’t say anything about this incident. “It was the malevolence. You didn’t mean to do this…” He offered him an uncomfortable smile.

To help repress the new traumatic memory, Mikleo washed Sorey. He allowed him to apply soap to his own body, only rinsing him off when he was permitted. Once they were clean, the water seraph dressed him and followed him to the bedroom. Sorey made a beeline for the bed past Lailah and Rose, whom had eaten so much she had gone to sleep shortly after returning from the lobby.

Lailah shuddered, noting that something was different about Sorey. “Sorey, is everything okay?” she asked him.

“I’m fine,” he curtly replied. “I’m just really tired.”

Mikleo avoided making eye contact with the fire seraph while getting into bed with him. Unable to ascertain if something was seriously wrong with him, Lailah got into bed with Rose and forced herself to go to sleep. She tossed and turned still struck with a minute dysphoria, and after deciding that she couldn’t sleep, she ventured over to Sorey’s bed. He was gone along with Mikleo.

“Rose, wake up,” she said as she shook the merchant-assassin. “Sorey and Mikleo are missing.”

Rose’s snores were cut short; her eyes drowsily opened. “What’s wrong?” she yawned.

“We have to find Sorey and Mikleo.” She took a step for the door but faltered for a moment. “He’s going too far away. Rose, please armatize with me. I’ll be fine for the time being if I do.”

“O-Okay! _Fethmus Mioma_!” Lailah merged with Rose, allowing her to dawn her fire-type armatization. Rose flinched at the malevolence that Lailah had accumulated, and even though Lailah didn’t want to hurt her, she knew it couldn’t be avoided if she didn’t want the pact to be broken. At least like this, the range could be extended by just a small amount. Rose left the inn in search of Sorey.

Sorey, on the other hand, had gone with Mikleo to Rountabel Palace. Mikleo basked in the malevolence oozing from the entire building for he knew that the source of it was lying in bed contemplating how to advance his plans for Ladylake. That sweet evil worked its way into his heart and reignited the feelings he had had in the bath with Sorey, but he reminded himself that if such an incident were to happen again, Sorey wouldn’t forgive him the next time. He was graciously given a second chance; he could not waste it.

Mikleo turned to his Shepherd, whose eyes were still filled with apprehension, and took up his hands as if to dance with him. “Sorey, will you do me a favor? It won’t hurt, I promise.”

“W-What is it? Why are we here?”

“The malevolence in this place is much higher than other places in Ladylake,” he started. “Something about Chancellor Bartlow has been bothering me, and I think it’s worth investigating.”

“But at night?”

“If we go in during the day, he’ll chase us out with his guards. That’s why I need you to armatize with me.”

Sorey looked unsure. He still hadn’t gotten over what had happened in the bath, but if Mikleo believed something to be fishy, who was he to deny him the right to satiate his curiosity? Besides he asked to armatize; if he was planning to attack him again, wouldn’t he have just let him dive head first into the malevolence? And despite everything that had happened, he wanted to trust him again. He wasn’t himself; it was the malevolence that had made him touch him so inappropriately. It was the malevolence that was trying to instill lust in him, and it was the malevolence that was making act on his carnal desires.

“ _Luzrov Rulay_ ,” Sorey timidly said. He braced his body and mind for the assault that would come with the crashing waves of malevolence. Mikleo entered into his body, and just as the Shepherd had expected, all of the impurity that was bound to the seraph flooded into him.

In the ephemeral space of his soul, Sorey was being torn apart. His pitiful screams echoed as he grasped his body and called desperately for Mikleo, whom came running to his aid. This seemingly uncontaminated image of him that only existed in the depths of the shared soul was his savior. How could he have ever thought to push him away? He clung to him, taking some of the light radiating from him for himself. Mikleo didn’t mind; he knew that it would happen. He wanted to happen. Even if Sorey was using some of the light he had kept tucked away for his own gain, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to completely nullify the malevolence. Some of the wickedness would find its way into him, and if steeped long enough, Sorey would be so close to falling. But he didn’t want him to fall. Not now. Not when Lailah still had her connection to him.

He noticed, too, that Zaveid was no longer there, and the little purity the wind seraph had blown over him had disappeared with him. Only Lailah’s flames were burning away the majority of the malevolence trying to infect his heart. It didn’t matter; in due time they would become too weak to do anything.

Sorey stood in front of Rountabel Palace, his crystal blue eyes gifted to him by Mikleo glazed over; he was in a trance under the water seraph’s control. He opened the doors into the vortex of malevolence. He followed the trail of malevolence in the air to Chancellor Bartlow’s bedroom. The old greedy man was sitting in an upholstered recliner sleeping uncomfortably. He stirred upon hearing the clicking of the armatization’s boots.

“Good evening, Chancellor Bartlow,” Mikleo said from deep within as he forced Sorey to fall into a deep sleep, and even with Sorey asleep for now, their voices still overlapped. “I’d like to negotiate with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to think that Sorey's ability to take on a MASSIVE amount of malevolence is attributed to the fact that he is a Shepherd. I mean, look at the amount that Heldalf took on before becoming Kittybeard or the amount of malevolence that turned Maotelus into a dragon. :D 
> 
> And I'm so sorry I did this to you, Sorey...


	10. The Epitome of Greed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikleo makes an offer they can't refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mom and I were watching a pretty heavy movie during the first half of this chapter, and I think it influenced how I wrote. Also, that unintentional Godfather reference.

Chancellor Bartlow was taken aback that the Shepherd, who had greeted him with a callous professionalism at Alisha’s bedroom door, had come to him to have a talk with him. His lavender night gown draped around his rotund body and his grey hair had been tied into a small curly ponytail. The Shepherd just stood silently at the door with his dignified posture, watching him with eyes that were both dazed and completely attentive to every breath the old man took. He was like a vampire waiting to be invited into the room; he refused to move from the doorway without permission.

Chancellor Bartlow uneasily stepped towards a small table next to his recliner. “Whiskey, Honored Shepherd?” he ventured.

“No, thank you. I’m afraid my palate isn’t trained fermented drinks,” the Shepherd calmly declined.

“Okay,” Chancellor Bartlow replied with a stiff nod. He poured himself a glass then pulled an ice sphere from a bucket that sat on the ledge under the tabletop for it. He carried it with him around the chair. “Please, have a seat over there.” He motioned to another table by the window. “I will have my butler bring us something to eat.”

“I would be honored to dine on the fine food of Rountabel Palace.” The Shepherd elegantly strolled to one of the end chairs while Chancellor Bartlow ordered two steaks. “Rare.”

“Excuse me?”

“How I want my food.”

“I would imagine that rare meat would be far too close to a living animal. It’s not a fitting degree for the symbol of purity and hope. If what they say is true about the Shepherd, I’m sure your ‘seraphim’ would be disproving at the very least.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion on my choice, did I?”

The remark brought on a fear that he had never known. He knew something was very wrong, and because he could not see the seraphim, he couldn’t tell if they were ready to kill him. Even if he didn’t have the seraphim around him, who was going to stop him from spilling his blood all over his carpet? The plush burgundy under his feet would mask whatever brutality would happen. That liquid crimson would simply look like spilled whiskey, and he could easily hide the wounds.

“My apologies, Esteemed Shepherd.”

“Come, sit with me. I wish to discuss a rather important matter concerning Princess Alisha Diphda.”

Chancellor Bartlow was deeply disturbed. What business would he have with the princess he worked so hard to protect from the hatred of her people that he would have such a menacing tone? He sat at the other end of the table. He watched as the shadow of curtains shielded the Shepherd from the light of the moon that flooded over the center of the table to himself.

“I already told you, it is my job to make sure that she is in good health,” he reiterated from earlier in the day.

“That’s not what I’m here about. I have an offer that I think even you would find hard to refuse,” the Shepherd told him. His voice was low as if he were speaking to him in a crowded party room. “Symonne.”

“S-Symonne?”

“Come out, you godforsaken wench.”

Chancellor Bartlow was at the edge of his sanity at this point. He had thought only half-correct—there was a seraph with them! Why else would he call out to someone that wasn’t there unless he was mentally unstable? He frantically searched each corner of the room as if searching for a giant spider. Chancellor Bartlow had an abundance of malevolence in his heart but not near enough to turn him into a hellion like it did to Maltran. Fear may have grown in it during this encounter, but the Shepherd could see it. He could smell the avaricious scent drifting off of him. It flooded into him; he controlled himself.

Symonne stepped from behind Chancellor Bartlow’s chair. She showed no emotion, not even delight in seeing how the once pure water seraph had become so tainted in spite of witnessing the malevolence in the Shepherd’s eyes. There was no surprise that he had found her out.

“Chancellor Bartlow,” the Shepherd leaned back in his chair, “I may have seemed very concerned for Princess Diphda’s state this morning, but I have a much deeper sentiment about her. Now I understand that you, too, have held disdain for her, and I would like to attribute that to your endless greed. Princess Diphda lives in a small mansion on the edge of the nobles’ district—her house, when juxtaposed to yours, is nothing but a mashed-up cardboard box. A chancellor of Ladylake was gifted with this palace to not only hold your affairs with the citizens but to sleep, eat, and bathe.”

Symonne watched quietly from the side. Where was he going with this? Since when did the Shepherd, ignorant to the sinful affairs of humans, become so eloquent in its language? This couldn’t be the effect of the malevolence, could it? She examined him closer from her spot and noticed that the water armatization had darkened. Its light had been lost in the muddy swamp that was the old, conniving man’s bedroom. The gold fixings that lined the edges of his clothing were tarnished and the light blue accents had actually brightened against the rest of the greying cloth.

Chancellor Bartlow was still distracted by the eerie presence of the malicious fallen seraph. “W-Why are you telling me this?” he quivered.

“It’s entertaining to see someone with so much power tremble,” the Shepherd chortled.

“Answer me!”

The Shepherd’s eyes straightaway became bloodthirsty. He summoned his bow and aimed at Chancellor Bartlow’s head, forcing his target to recant his order instantly.

“Mighty Shepherd, why do you say these things?” he cowered. The ice in his whiskey had melted away, the alcohol untouched.

“Isn’t it simple, you buffoon?” the Shepherd sweetly said. “I want you to kill the princess. Stop at nothing to make sure her throat is slit and her royal blood is drained from every vessel in her body.”

Symonne's expressionless face cracked and stretched into a devil-like smile. She hadn’t expected the malevolence to be this extreme. Even she wasn’t that callous; even seraphim subjected to absurd amounts of the evil born from human desires had never lasted this long!

“Could it be you’re finally starting to fall?”

“No, Symonne. I have not even begun,” the Shepherd responded, causing Chancellor Bartlow to whimper. The Shepherd turned back to him. “I’m aware that the Scattered Bones group has cancelled your request to murder her. This is why Symonne is here, no? She was going to help you kill her, wasn’t she?”

“Not necessarily, but I’m interested in hearing what you have to say,” Symonne replied.

“It’s almost elementary. That idiot leader of that assassin’s guild believes that malevolence might have the power to bring back the dead, but I have yet to see that be true. So…why not use your guards?”

“M-My guards?” Chancellor Bartlow stammered. “My guards would sooner fight me than kill that bloody bitch.”

“But I’m sure that within them are ones that agree with you. Symonne can shroud them in an illusory arte, and they can come in during the night and poof! The thorn in our sides would be gone…as long as you carried this out _after_ I have left the city and Sergei has gone home. Give it a couple days; Alisha will be bedridden for at least a week trying to get the arsenic out of her system. If you try to kill her now, you’ll be found out.”

The Shepherd smiled at his own plan. Alisha was finally going to die! No, he had to remain calm. Chancellor Bartlow mulled it over. Even when the late night feast had finally reached his room, he thought long and hard about the deal on the table.

“But who would this ‘Symonne’ disguise them as?”

“Someone that Rose knew all too well.”

***

Rose, still armatized with Lailah, leapt atop the houses and shops looking for her friends. They couldn’t understand where they would go or why it had to be so late for them to sneak out. They had to get up early to meet with Sergei and to move on to another city.

 _“They’re not in this district,”_ Lailah finally judged. She couldn’t pinpoint their location through the cloud over the entire city, and without any prior information about where they would go she would need a stroke of luck to find them. Still in all of this, Mikleo had to be behind it.

Rose wanted to help her, so she began trying to cross off places they would go. There was no reason to go to the Vivia Aqueduct, where the malevolence had actually had a slight decrease since they had taken care of the hellions there.

“Do you think they could have gone back to Alisha?” she hypothesized.

Lailah shuddered inside of Rose. The thought that Mikleo was going after her especially in her condition frightened her; he was willing to send an entire military stronghold into chaos just to fulfill his desire. It was absolutely imperative that they find him as soon as possible. They skirted along the side street up to the sanctuary courtyard. Fortunately there was a small reprieve for them as the Lord of the Land’s faint light could be seen flowing from the sanctuary, yet if things were allowed to continue on as they were now, he would soon become a dragon and level everything in the area. The fire seraph wanted to check in on him and offer some assistance, but that wasn’t her job nor within her abilities as a Prime Lord.

Rose and Lailah were pushing the heavy door open to the nobles’ district when a tidal wave of malevolence knocked them back. It started to make sense that Mikleo would head here since he was searching for more malevolence. Pushing their way through it, Rose stopped at the first intersection. Armatizing with Lailah for such a long time now, she was starting to be able to pinpoint where the threatening darkness was coming from. It wasn’t by Alisha’s terrace; the princess’s mansion and the path to it had a lesser degree of malevolence as opposed to the path that led straight to Rountabel Palace.

“Lailah…do you see that?” she asked quietly. She pointed straight ahead, the black fog clearing just enough to reveal a massive hellion.

It was a centipede-type that they had encountered before that had grown so much since the first time Sorey and Mikleo had ever known of its existence. Its exoskeleton was a thick barrier spanning the width of the path.

 _“What’s that hellion doing outside of the aqueduct?”_ Lailah asked the night sky. _“Could it have manifested here? Or was it attracted here?”_

“It really doesn’t matter, does it? We’ve got to kill it before it hurts anyone in the area!”

_“Rose, I’m not a good match for this hellion. In fact, Sorey had a difficult time trying to fight it when we first started on our journey.”_

“Nonsense; you just have to be smart!”

Rose charged towards the monster with the shining Sacred Blade sparking the ground behind her. Leaping up she intended to slice it down the middle. If only she knew how hard the hellion’s exoskeleton was! The centipede spun around effortlessly, given its size, and whacked her out of the air back a sizeable distance. Rose coughed up blood-mixed saliva.

“You’re gonna be a tough one, ain’tcha?” she smirked. She wiped the blood from her chin. Again she charged, this time implementing one Lailah’s hidden artes to burn through its shell. Just as Lailah had tried to tell her, the centipede was almost impervious to fire, and slashing through it was as easy as using a knife to cut through tungsten. “Good God, he’s strong, or maybe just thick.”

_“Rose, please listen to me!”_

“Relax, girl! We just need a little elbow grease. When we find an opening, we’ll use Flamberge, got it? Besides, it’s by itself; we’ve got to take advantage of this!”

The assassin-merchant slid off as much as she could to the side then closed in. If attacking head-on wouldn’t work, then sweeping its legs would stun it long enough to crack the exoskeleton with the Mystic Arte. Once it was down, she activated Flamberge, dancing in the flames that enshrouded the blade. Right after the attack, however, the centipede pushed her away. It was going to begin its assault.

It rushed to them, stabbing at the concrete around Rose’s feet until she tripped and fell. It pinned her down by her skirt as it focused on using an arte. Rose took this opportunity to stab its eye, sending it into a panic and consequently setting her free. She used a Rejuvenation Arte to last a little longer, but she knew that at some point she wouldn’t be able to keep healing herself. As hellions neared death in battle, they always became more aggressive. Rose also didn’t want to concede to Lailah about her attacks being ineffective.

“Aqua Limit!” Sorey and Mikleo’s synchronized voice called from the doors of the palace.

“Sorey?” the two girls uttered.

Sorey, armatized with Mikleo, flipped over the hellion in front of them. “So you found it!” he said.

“Where the hell did you go?” Rose chastised as she regained her stance. “Lailah and I were worried sick!”

“Mikleo sensed a huge hellion. We figured it would be this type since there are so many in the aqueduct.”

“And you couldn’t have woken us up to provide backup?”

“Its weakness is water. You’d just be in the way.”

Rose was flabbergasted not at the same fact that Lailah had tried to convey to her but at the fact that he thought she would be in the way. Once this fight was over, she would show him just how much she was in the way.

 _“It’s on its last legs after that attack,”_ Mikleo said. _“If we whittle away its health, then perhaps Rose and Lailah can finish it off.”_

With no hesitation, Sorey unleashed an onslaught of water arrows on the hellion. Rose’s blade clanked against the exoskeleton. Sorey’s flurry manage to crack open a small portion of the exoskeleton to reveal the hellion’s vulnerable body underneath.

“Rose!” Sorey signaled.

“Flamberge!” Rose and Lailah yelled, stabbing into the hellion with the burning sword and killing it. The hellion disintegrated into flames of malevolence that Lailah purified after separating from her partner.

Sorey remained armatized with Mikleo for fear that the malevolence was far too strong for him to be alone. He opened his mouth to say something but seeing Lailah’s grave face shut it up. She took a step forward, but Rose hooked him in the cheek.

“What was that for?!” Sorey asked.

“Don’t you dare act like you don’t know!” she snapped.

“Rose, please calm down. I will deal with this,” Lailah ordered. “Mikleo, come out this instant. We need to talk.”

Sorey refused to de-armatize, reasoning that he was aware of Mikleo’s condition and that doing so would make things much worse. Lailah allowed him that and decided that they would return to the inn to address the matters at hand. While they walked, Sorey became lost in thought. He was talking with Mikleo in his soul where he expressed his concern that Lailah was going to cut him off.

 _“She wouldn’t do that to you,”_ Mikleo told him as massaged his shoulders with his permission. _“She knows that if she terminated my pact, I would become a dragon and you would renounce your title as Shepherd by choice. Trying to separate us is a stupid move.”_

Sorey couldn’t help but agree. Lailah had a lot riding on his relationship with Mikleo; it was seen firsthand after killing Heldalf. But what if this talk revealed what happened in the bath? How much did she want to talk about?

 _“What if she talks about why we were at the palace? Even I can’t answer that,”_ Sorey said. For all he knew, they were dragged there by the hellion itself.

 _“I already said that we were hunting an extremely dangerous hellion. Let me talk if that comes up,”_ the water seraph said. He gave him a peck on the cheek, and Sorey tried his best not to cringe.

When the four of them had returned to their bedroom at the inn, Rose sat on her bed while Sorey and Mikleo separated. Lailah kept them at the door as if establishing herself as a barrier between them and Rose. Her hands were covered over her stomach. She looked like a suit of armor that would be standing on display in a museum.

“Why were you at Rountabel Palace?” she asked sharply.

“I swear, we were there hunting that hellion,” Sorey told her.

She examined him and focused on his feelings via her connection to him. His heart was racing but more so out of the same type of fear that a child had when they were caught doing something wrong. She glanced at Mikleo, who was glaring at her with a deep sense of loathing. She had to stand strong, show no fear, and pretend that she knew there was nothing more to it. And as much as she wanted to continue her interrogation, she realized that the exhaustion would take a toll on everyone if they didn’t go to bed now. At the same time she didn’t want it to seem like she was letting this go, but the longer she stared at Sorey, the more she felt pity for him. The longer she stared at Mikleo, the more she feared him. She wished Zaveid didn’t leave.

“Since we’re having this interrogation, allow me to ask where Zaveid went,” Mikleo suddenly said.

“Zaveid had to take care of some business back at Rayfalke Spiritcrest,” Lailah retorted.

“Is that so? Why don’t we meet him tomorrow then?”

“We have more pressing matters to which we must attend.”

Rose watched on the sideline. Her heart ached seeing her friends fight like this. She imagined that Sorey’s mind was in turmoil with the constant tugging on the rope that was his being. He had looked sick since the day they had learned that Alisha was being poisoned, and the hours earlier when he rushed to bed after he and Mikleo came from the bath was even more unnerving. He would never respond so curtly to his friends unless something was really bothering him. She wanted to ask him about it, but with Mikleo hanging around him more and more as time passed, it would be difficult. She couldn’t ask Lailah to distract him because he would ignore her anyway like he had been doing.

Mikleo wanted to know where Zaveid had gone. If he was out trying to stop him from behind the scenes, he needed to know his whereabouts so he could eliminate him. He was going to wait until Sorey had completely fallen to kill him, but things were becoming increasingly sensitive the longer any of his “friends” were allowed to live. He hoped that Chancellor Bartlow would carry out his plans, and he hoped that Symonne would be willing to help him. He couldn’t stand watching Sorey fear for his sanity, for his life; but this was all necessary. This was all for him.

Sorey didn’t know what to think, though. Every time the memory of Mikleo touching him crept into his mind, he wanted to break down and cry. He didn’t want to leave him either. He wanted everyone to be happy. He just wanted to help the world then live in peace with the one he loved. How could he have let his emotions get the better of him back then? If only he could rip out his heart and crush it, then he wouldn’t have to ever worry about his feelings for Mikleo or for his friends in general causing him to make such permanent mistakes.

The argument ended with neither side learning anything from each other. Rose took her side of the bed and made sure to sleep with one eye open. Lailah, who still had a tiny amount of faith in Mikleo after everything that had happened to this point, got in the same bed and waited for the other two to go to sleep. Mikleo knew better than to try and kill them when they were on the alert. Sorey got in the other bed after the water seraph, the former only shuffling close enough to his friend to see his face in the dark. He willed his heart to relax as he fell into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the storms these past days, I seem to have caught a head cold from a sudden temperature change. I'm currently in stage two of it--which is feeling tired all the time, but at least I'm not coughing up pieces of my lungs (House reference, DING!). The chapters on this might come a little slower since it feels like I have to expend more energy than usual to think about how the characters can screw with each other. Sorry guys, but in the mean time, you can check out my other stuff!


	11. The Return to Pendrago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enamored by Alisha, Sergei wants to do everything he can to support her visions for peace. Meanwhile, the dreadful memory of Mikleo's unwarranted advances impedes Sorey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe I willed myself back to proper health? It did no favors for my imagination though. I was asleep half the time!

For the past couple days that Sergei had been in Ladylake, he learned a great deal about the political climate that Alisha was forced to endure thanks to Chancellor Bartlow’s propaganda. Even though she was a princess of the royal family, she wasn’t treated with the appropriate amount of respect like he thought. When she told him that many of the citizens most likely didn’t care that she was being poisoned because they had been fooled by the chancellor, he couldn’t believe it.

“You’re the princess knight of Hyland!” he emphasized in the morning as he prepared to leave. “There’s absolutely no reason that you should be hated by your people, not when you want peace for them!”

“It’s a sad truth,” Alisha responded. “I had noticed there was a sudden change in my people’s attitude towards me, but I didn’t think it would be this drastic. Even though they may not like me anymore, however, I still want to do everything I can to support them.”

It was at that moment that Sergei’s heart began to flutter. Even if the letter had been a fake, Alisha’s good intentions for her city and people were true. Whenever she spoke of her dreams to end the war between Hyland and Rolance, there was a determined sparkle in her eyes. He didn’t think she was in his league nor would it be right for a captain of the enemy kingdom to fall in love with the princess knight, but the fact that she wanted the same thing as him made him feel like things were possible. And not just between the kingdoms.

“Princess, I have a proposal,” Sergei said. He couldn’t look her in the eyes without blushing, so instead he just looked down. He forced the corners of his mouth down so that he wouldn’t seem too excited to talk to her.

“What is it?”

“Um…s-since I have to return to Pendrago today, I was thinking of relaying your ideals to my king. And if things go as planned, there is a very high chance that we can hold some real peace talks. W-Would you…would you be interested?”

Alisha smiled a shimmering smile at him. “I’d love to,” she graciously accepted. Those gemstone words with the silver casting of her smile would have made Sergei die from the sweet beauty. He finished putting on his armor and fastened his weapons to their respective belts.

“I will let them know that you do, in fact, wish to carry out negotiations.”

“Thank you.”

Sergei headed for the bedroom door.

“Oh, and Sergei? Thank you for staying by my side these past couple of nights.”

“It was my pleasure, Princess!”

The soft morning light that colored the buildings of Ladylake greeted him outside the door that led to Alisha’s terrace. He stepped out into the little garden in front of it, checked to make sure the coast was clear, and then celebrated having won Alisha’s favor. He was like a young boy who had gotten a puppy for his birthday. Princess Alisha was definitely a force to reckon with as well as a sweetheart. Completely smitten, he vowed to himself that he would do everything he could to protect her from evildoers. The next time he visited, he would bring her a bouquet of the finest flowers he could find throughout the Glenwood Continent. Then he would bring her a mythril jewelry set. Finally would be a ring forged from the burning flames of his passionate love!

Sergei regained his composure as he cleared his throat.

“Now, now, big guy—take things slow. A wondrous pixie like Princess Alisha can either be frightened away or driven to bloody murder. Take things slow, get Sorey’s blessing—Sorey?” he prattled to himself. “Damn, I forgot that I’m meeting with Sorey! Damn you, thralls of love!”

The captain hurried out of the nobles’ district to the entrance of Ladylake just past the inn where Sorey’s group had spent the night. As much as he wanted to tell his favorite Shepherd of the good news about the negotiation proposal, he had to restrain himself. Sorey and his friends knew that he had a soft spot for happy couples, but to go bouncing up to him about the potential for this relationship would tarnish his image; they would never take him seriously again.

His elated behavior was killed by the overall mood of the Shepherd’s posse. His mind erased whatever he wanted to tell him, concerned only about why he looked so grim. Sorey was never one to be seen without a goofy smile, and Rose was never one to be so quiet. Behind them were Lailah and Mikleo. The two seraphim, invisible to the captain, were still on eggshells with each other. Sorey couldn’t bring himself to tell him about the conflict between his friends, and Rose thought that including the captain into their drama would be a bad move. The more people that got involved, the more targets Mikleo had. If Sorey wasn’t going to at least discipline him, it fell to her to keep others safe.

“Why do you two look so upset?” Sergei asked.

They didn’t answer. He couldn’t hear the argument going on. Mikleo wanted to reside inside of Sorey for the sake of not absorbing anymore malevolence while Lailah said he had to stay out _because_ he had absorbed so much malevolence. Rose refused to let Sorey have a say since she already knew that he would side with the water seraph.

“If we don’t go inside, then we make Sorey use more energy, and if you haven’t noticed, he hasn’t been feeling too great,” Mikleo growled.

“Going inside of him magnifies the malevolence in us, and I won’t allow you to place that burden on him,” Lailah retaliated.

“Well if you’re so worried, then armatize with Rose and leave Sorey to me.”

“That would waste the same amount of energy in a shorter amount of time.”

“Take it or leave it, Lailah.”

Lailah let out a sigh. She had to concede to him if they wanted to get anywhere. After armatizing with Rose, whom was taken by surprise and nearly threw her daggers at Sergei out of reflex, the fire seraph told her it was only for the time being since Mikleo was being too obstinate to deal with at the moment. Mikleo went inside of Sorey, hitting him with a wave of nausea and also causing Sergei to panic somewhat. In the ephemeral space of Sorey’s soul, he latched on like a jealous lover.

“You sure you two are alright?” Sergei asked them, glancing back and forth between them.

“P-Perfectly fine now! We actually got into a bit of an argument this morning about breakfast, but that’s all over now, right, honey?” Rose fibbed. She let out a nervous laugh as she patted Sorey’s back. “This husband of mine never did have a stomach for…for…roast beef in the morning!”

“Oh, that’s why he looked so sick! I thought the food in Ladylake was supposed to rival that of Pendrago.”

“S-Sorey’s been sick with a stomach bug since last night! Must have caught it from…from eating bad ice cream!”

Sergei at this point could no longer comprehend what she was talking about, but since Sorey did look deathly ill, he wondered if it was even worth trying to talk with him. He was about to suggest that he would wait for his stomach to settle down—using that small window to go back and see Alisha one more time—but Sorey insisted that they discuss whatever they needed to discuss now. The captain retrieved his horse from a small hay stacking area next to the entrance gate while trying his best not to catch the two workers’ disdainful glares.

“I wanted to tell you that I’ve asked Princess Alisha is she was willing to really hold peace talks between Hyland and Rolance,” Sergei finally told them. Rose’s face brightened at the sound of the news. She had intruded on the first battle of the war to save Sorey from a pack of hellion-turned soldiers, and the image of the monsters that were once human tearing at each other’s flesh had made an impression on her. Motivated by this indication of happiness, Sergei went on to say, “I would like for you all to come with me to Pendrago to facilitate spreading the news. While my soldiers are not necessarily opposed to reaching peace, other ranks might still find it difficult to even accept a truce. So, Glorious Shepherd, would you do me the honor?”

Sorey—looking as weak as he did—should have declined the offer for the sake of his health, but Sergei and Alisha were friends fighting for the same thing that he was. He wanted peace because it would help reduce the amount of malevolence manifesting on the continent. He gazed at Sergei with tired by helpful eyes and nodded.

“I’d be more than happy to help,” he said.

“That’s wonderful news! Shall we be on our way, then?”

Sergei allowed Sorey to ride his horse while Rose walked alongside him. The journey to Pendrago would be a long one, and there was no doubt that the ailing Shepherd wouldn’t be able to make it on foot, not with Mikleo pushing his sinful desires onto him. Rose wanted to talk with Lailah about the sudden armatization, but with Sergei with them and still unaware of all the abilities of the seraphim, she thought it would be too strange. On top of that were Mikleo and his conniving ways.

Periodically either one of them checked on Sorey to make sure he was at least still alive. On several occasions he had fallen asleep, which was Rose’s cue to shake him back awake. Lailah had asked from inside to do so to prevent Mikleo from taking advantage of his position. But strangely enough, Mikleo had made no effort to even communicate with Sorey as the Shepherd had noticed. Was he mad? It made him feel uneasy that he was so quiet not because of what he could do to him from inside but because he was afraid that his resistance to his advances might have set him off. Then he remembered that he and Lailah had been fighting a lot more since last night. When they got to the inn in Pendrago, he would try to talk to him.

They reached Lastonbell within two days, much sooner than they had expected, and they took a short break to refuel and recharge. Lailah riskily de-armatized to assess how bad things had gotten in the City of Artisans. There were only a few shady-looking people out on the streets, and they looked like they were sick. The rain that had rolled over Pendrago and blighted the fields had expanded past Lastonbell and into the southern half of the Glaivend Basin. The famous bell tower of the city had tarnished and cracked. The sanctuary seemed to have begun its fall into disrepair as the two seraphim that had resided in the city had disappeared.

“Sindra’s gone,” Lailah told Rose with a heavy heart. “Lastonbell has fallen to the malevolence.”

“It only took a few weeks,” Rose murmured, also extremely disheartened by the fact that things were deteriorating faster than they had hoped.

While Sergei searched for hay that wouldn’t poison his horse, Sorey took refuge in the inn. The people inside were either fidgeting from anxiety or ready to shrivel up and die from what he could see through his blurry eyes. He walked into the hall to the rooms and called Mikleo to the outside.

“What’s wrong?” Sorey asked him. He started recovering from the malevolence.

“Nothing,” Mikleo curtly replied.

“Are you mad at Lailah?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Of course, it’s my business. Both of you reside inside of me.”

Mikleo found his chance to play the pity card. “She’s trying to separate us, Sorey. She’s getting ready to break my pact and leave me behind to turn into a dragon!”

“I won’t let her do that; you have nothing to worry about!”

“I’m so scared. I don’t want to become a dragon.”

Sorey hesitated for a brief moment before hugging Mikleo tightly. He told him again that he would protect him. He loved him more than anyone and would die trying to keep him safe. Mikleo simply smiled evilly behind him.

The journey to Pendrago continued after Sergei managed to find a couple carrots for his horse. Sorey, allowing Mikleo back into him, hopped onto the horse while Rose armatized with Lailah again. The Meadows of Triumph had turned into a barren wasteland just like Pearloat Pastures. Miraculously, Pendrago was still faring well in the malevolent rain albeit there was a more somber atmosphere.

“I’ll go on ahead to the Knights’ Tower to announce your arrival. Are you willing to help me today?” Sergei asked at the fountain.

“Sure, let’s head over now,” Sorey said. The three of them made their way to the eastern district and up to the Tower’s doors. “What should I say?”

“All you have to do is give your word that there will be peace. I have high hopes for this negotiation, so just giving me and Alisha your support is more than enough.”

Rose hung back a few paces from Sergei and Sorey so she could talk with Lailah. “What do you think about this?” she said in a low voice.

_“I think Mikleo might try to sabotage the peace talks,”_ Lailah responded. _“He wants as much malevolence as he can get, and this truce would greatly decrease it.”_

“And what are you prepared to do if he tries to kill Alisha or Sergei?”

_“I will personally end his life.”_

“But that would—!”

_“Ah, maybe that was too drastic! I’ll have to compromise his strength though. I’ll break my oath and make sure he can’t do any more harm.”_

The assassin-merchant knew that her tethered fire seraph didn’t want to hurt Mikleo or Sorey by any means. If the universe was built in her image, she would have happily made it to where malevolence didn’t even exist. Her hand would be forced, though, if her Sub-Lord attempted to kill anyone else.

Sorey and Rose waited outside while Sergei lined his men up in front of the tower entrance. The confident grin on his face made him look almost too childish to run an army, but it was part of his charm. Sergei announced to them the news about Alisha before beckoning Sorey over to the knights.

“It’s true. Captain Sergei doesn’t lie, and I’m friends with Alisha,” Sorey began. “I can attest that these two will do everything in their power to end this war and to…to…”

He began to feel faint. There was an intense pain surging through him; nausea set in and in no time, he fell to his knees retching before a stream of cloudy yellow fluid dripped from his gaping mouth. Then the dizziness dispelled and anxiety set in. Trembling and suffocating as he sat in front of the puddle of bile, the awful memory came back. But why? He was just fine a moment ago, so why was it bothering him now?

“Sorey!” Rose yelled out to him as she grabbed his shoulders.

Mikleo came out of him with a genuine look of concern. Perhaps seeing his best friend and future lover collapse into a panic attack erased the malevolence in one fell swoop. He gripped his shoulders and shook him. He frantically called out his name. Then the Shepherd blacked out, Mikleo’s voice echoing into silence.

Every once in a while his senses returned in spots. He heard the muffled deep voice that belonged to Sergei. He was floating. Someone was holding his hand as they cried. Flashes of the world around him were blurred and colorless. Sometimes he could taste the bile, smelling it on his chin. He was placed on something solid, his skin was exposed to the cool air, and his torso was prodded and poked by something icy and old dry hands.

The only name that could grant him some peace of mind was:

“Mikleo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to make Sorey vomit blood, but one--that's far too drastic, and two--vomiting blood is caused by reasons that wouldn't make sense in the context of the story. So bile it is. (Things to consider when a pre-med is writing fanfiction...)


	12. Prisoners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zaveid meets with someone he's seen before, and Mikleo's lust is getting out of control again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that I've made Zaveid a lot more serious than how he is in the game. Then again, the world's ending.

It had been almost four days since Zaveid left Lailah to deal with Mikleo. He tried his best not to dwell on it because it would only make his regret swallow him faster. Even with Siegfried on hand, not having any bullets proved to be a severe handicap. He even thought about the chances of running into Symonne. He couldn’t kill her, but he couldn’t let her do as she pleased.

But there was no point in worrying about things to come now. He was more obligated to find a way to purge the malevolence out of all of them so that Sorey and Rose didn’t have to suffer and to return Mikleo to normal. The only way to find any leads on what method that might be was to find the Storyteller of Time. Question was, who was he?

“Dammit, I should have stayed with them to at least learn who it might be,” he grumbled. 

He was resting on a boulder near the oasis in the Zaphgott Moor. He had taken advantage of his Windstepping ability to give him a little speed boost across the Glenwood Continent, but it still took him roughly the same amount of time it would have taken him to get to Pendrago. The desert was only accessible by passing through the Great Camelot Bridge, and since they had jumped the gun to kill Heldalf, they didn’t know of its existence or its length. Zaveid was knowledgeable about many towns and cities, ruins and plains; this allowed him to find the area in the first place. His idea was to start from the unexplored lands as opposed to those that they had passed through so many times to avoid running into them.

“Mikster won’t be happy to find out that I’m not part of them…or would he?” he conversed with himself. “If he were to learn that it was only Lailah against him…that I can’t help her now…”

He hopped off the boulder, resuming his search for his person of interest, then found an abandoned village. The burnt buildings and wreckage somehow made him homesick. Sorey and Mikleo would have loved to check out the place.

He continued on towards the east, going too far and finding the entrance to a cave before coming to the incredibly tall walls of a city forgotten in the past. Lohgrin was nothing more but a central tower now with its people foraging as much food to get by until they had enough money from exports to jumpstart rebuilding their homes. As far as they had come, they only had tents and whatever furniture could be made from wooden crates and animal hides.

Among these impoverished people, a hearty old man wearing a parka on top of traveler’s clothes was carrying a load of potatoes for the woman who rented her tent out to other travelers like an inn. Zaveid had only met the old man a few times before, but he could never forget the bright blue parka.

“Mayvin?” he uttered.

“Hmm? What’s that?” Mayvin said, looking around until he found Zaveid staring at him. “A seraph? Hmm, and I can sense a bit of Rose’s light on him. Could it be?” It didn’t seem like Mayvin remembered Zaveid right away, but recognizing the light from Sorey and Rose served as his connection. After setting the potatoes down, he approached the wind seraph. “You work with the Shepherd and Rose, don’t you?”

“Yes; well, no,” Zaveid stammered. He wasn’t sure how to answer. “It’s really complicated.”

Mayvin gave him a dubious look. He scanned his surroundings and ushered Zaveid to the entrance to the central tower. The people of Lohgrin were mentally fragile at the moment, and having them see an old man talking to the air would put them even more on edge. When they were alone, he picked up the conversation again.

“Complicated? What happened?” Mayvin asked.

Zaveid explained to him all that had happened. He didn’t leave out a single detail since he could trust him and he was aware of the seraphim. As he talked, the old man’s face came out more vividly in his memory. He had been younger by a few years back when he saw him first. Meanwhile Mayvin’s face did not change in surprise or sorrow as he explained what became of Edna and Mikleo.

“The Shepherd’s going through a rough patch,” he said. He pulled out his pipe to puff. “Also, why are you telling me all this? How can you trust me?”

“You took care of Rose, right? She talked about you sometimes when we were going to sleep for the night. That, and I feel like I’ve seen you before just in passing.”

“Is that so?”

Zaveid started to feel uneasy. “Y-Yeah?”

Mayvin grunted. “How many of the iris gems have you found?” A change in subject.

“Lailah said we’d gotten most of them when I asked her about them.”

“I was hoping you lot would have found them all before going after Heldalf. Ah, there’s nothing I can do about it now. Sorey and Mikleo are tainted. It would have been nice if they had known about their past before bending to that monster’s will.”

Zaveid’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“Those two—the Celestial Record was written based on their fate to become the Shepherd and his Sub-Lord. Now that they’ve relinquished their souls to the malevolence, humanity might have to forfeit the game.” He shook out some of the spent tobacco from his pipe. “To let this happen on my watch. The past ones must be disappointed in me.”

The wind seraph again asked him what he meant.

“How many more hints do you want? Don’t you find it strange that I even know about the iris gems and what is contained in them? Or that I didn’t give much a reaction hearing what has happened?”

“I just thought you were an apathetic old man that only cared for Rose.”

“N-No! You’re looking at the current Storyteller of Time!”

Zaveid was quiet, which bothered Mayvin since he had expected something of a flabbergasted reaction. Instead, Zaveid just said to him, “That’s why you look so familiar. It’s because you’re almost immortal.”

Mayvin just sighed in defeat but quickly became serious again. Zaveid, once companions with Sorey and Mikleo, knew his identity. He had been hoping to keep it secret until Sorey found out himself, but that wasn’t going to happen. After getting the conversation back on track, he asked him why he was rushing to find him.

“Two things. I need bullets for Siegfried in case it comes to _that_ , and I’m looking for a way to reverse the malevolence in Mikleo,” Zaveid explained.

“I’ve never even heard of that phrase,” Mayvin smirked. “But it can’t hurt to see if there’s anything we can do. We should hurry, though, for I don’t know how long I have left.”

“What do you mean?”

“Being the Storyteller of Time doesn’t make you immortal. It just lets you live long enough to spread the truth of past Shepherds.”

***

“He’s got a fever,” the Rolance physician said. He got up from his seat next to Sorey, who was laying in one of the infirmary beds inside the Knights’ Tower with a wet rag on his forehead. “Judging by his fluids, he hasn’t eaten in a while, and anxiety irritated his stomach enough to make him vomit. His heart rate is elevated as well.”

Sergei asked the aged physician as many questions as he could, yet most of them were only questions that Sorey could answer. Why didn’t he say he was hungry? Was something bothering him to make his heart race? Was he too tired?

“Captain, I can’t answer any of those things, but it’s very possible that he may be delirious due to the fever. I recommend that someone watch him for tonight to make sure he sleeps soundly.” The old physician shuffled through his medicine bag and pulled out a small hemp bag with some sort of powder. “These are made from several medicinal plants that will help reduce the fever if it gets too high, but he might end up feeling bloated. I’ll be back in the morning to check on him. I advise that he stay here for the night, and if he is doing better, he should rest in a more appropriate setting.”

The physician took one last look at the ailing Shepherd while shaking his head and stroking his white beard. He pitied him—a fine young man suddenly coming down with a mystery sickness in which the symptoms could mean a variety of things. 

Mikleo stood near the head of his bed, placing his cool hand on his cheek. It hurt to see him struggling; it made him sick to know deep inside that it was really his fault. He kept trying to tell himself that everything was happening for a reason. Sorey was sick because his body needed to get used to the malevolence that was taking its toll on him.

Lailah and Rose were standing closer to the door. Both of them knew that the real cause was the illness and the malevolence as well. Lailah wanted to try and heal him, but something as deep-rooted as Mikleo’s hatred for her and Rose was a hard thing to extinguish.

“Rose, let’s step out, shall we?” the fire seraph all of a sudden asked.

“Hmm? Okay?” Rose replied in confusion. When they were outside and a good distance away from the door of the Tower, she asked, “What’s up? You’ve got an idea?”

“Is it wrong?”

“Is what wrong?”

“Mikleo is trying to ruin everything, yet I can’t help but feel sorry for him.”

Rose was a little astonished that Lailah was beginning to feel such a way, especially knowing that she was prepare to strike him down if she had to. Considering the amount of stress his being was on their friend, though, it was hard to understand why he was trying so hard to sabotage every effort of peace.

“Mikleo was always a bit of a stubborn child, but he always did love Sorey. I’m sure hurting him is the last thing he wants to do. In a way, he’s a prisoner in his own body. Before he became tainted, he and Sorey always played together and shared secrets even as old as they are now. We only hear so much about them from their childhood, so that is all I can infer. Watching his descent has been hard recently, but now that Sorey is finally feeling the more dangerous effects of the malevolence growing inside his best friend, I think it’s beginning to hurt Mikleo. Rose, what would you do if Dezel had become tainted? Would you allow him to stay on that dark path? Would you turn a blind eye to the maliciousness of his actions? I find myself thinking about this a lot lately. Sorey is afraid to lose Mikleo, and I have a feeling that he hides that fear because he’s worried that I’ll cut him off. If the need arises, there will be no avoiding it; that is certain. But at the same time, it feels like something is fundamentally wrong with Sorey now—he’s more subdued. He won’t complain about being tired anymore not because he wants to do his best but because he wants us all to go back to our pure selves. It is because of this that I pray for Mikleo and Sorey. They want each other as they were, but there’s nothing they can do about it.”

Rose was amazed that this was how she truly felt about the ordeal. “L-Lailah…” she stuttered. It was the first time that she had ever spoken so honestly to her, and she shared her sentiment. She couldn’t answer her questions about Dezel simply because Dezel had always been on a dark path without her knowing his existence until she met Sorey.

“Lailah, you can be a total ditz sometimes, but deep down, you’re like a sweet mother to them,” Rose sweetly said after a few moments in thought. “We all know that you want the best for all of us.” Her face changed from the innocent face of a young daughter to the serious expression of an assassin. “We can’t, however, let this prevent us from stopping Mikleo. We’ve got a lot of people to protect.”

“There’s no other way; I know.”

Lailah and Rose continued their time together outside in the near-silent night. The pitter-patter of the malevolent rain fell on their skin, yet they didn’t mind it so much. It seemed like only a trifle compared to what they’ve had to face up to now. Perhaps by letting the rain wet their hair and clothes they were absorbing malevolence, or perhaps such tiny drops would only increase it by so much. They were more concerned with Sorey’s well-being and Mikleo’s lack of self-control as of late to pay it any mind.

The Shepherd lay on the firm bed, eyes half-opened and arms at right angles beside his head. Mikleo was at his feet touching his legs to keep him grounded so he didn’t start ranting and raving like an asylum patient. There was always a chance he would be delirious; the physician had even said so. But even while watching him in this state, he wanted to attack him. He couldn’t, though, what with Sergei just standing there with his arms crossed and his eyebrows crinkling in the center as he focused on Sorey. If only he left, then he could relieve some of the tension building up in him.

“Sorey,” he whispered as he ran his finger up his leg while walking to the head of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Sorey replied. There was some lucidity but not enough to be considered normally functioning. Sergei approached his other side. Those helpless green eyes opened up and peered at the captain. “I’m tired, but I can’t sleep.”

“That’s usually what happens with fevers,” Sergei chuckled. He soaked the rag again, replacing it gingerly on his forehead.

Mikleo glared at him. He needed to leave! Only Mikleo was allowed to take care of Sorey! The passion was bubbling up again from looking at the defenseless man on the bed. He was absolutely delicious-looking. He just wanted to have a little privacy! If he didn’t leave soon, his itching hands would have to turn on himself, and it just wouldn’t be the same!

“Well, it’s getting late and I haven’t eaten yet,” Sergei finally said. “I’ll grab you something, too, alright? Try and get some rest. The doctor’s coming back tomorrow.”

The captain left; the door softly clicked shut behind him. Mikleo excitedly turned to Sorey, whom was starting to doze off. The exhaustion and fever was waning just enough to the point that he could sleep comfortably. If only his water seraph didn’t have other plans!

The water seraph crawled over him so that he was standing like a dog beginning to rut over the fatigued body. He was panting and swallowing his saliva like a depraved mad man. “Sorey…we’re finally alone again!” he giddily chimed. “We can revel in each other’s love for just a moment more!”

“Mikleo…” Sorey drawled. Deep in the pit of his mind, anxiety was brewing. A nasty storm was developing in his heart. “Mikleo…!”

“It’s okay; I’ll _help_ you sleep!”

The fever was raging again. The fear was gripping once again at his pounding heart, and he was powerless to stop Mikleo. Sorey knew what was coming even though his clouded mind.


	13. The First Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zaveid and Mayvin set out to find the first clue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine drakes are a lot easier to fight than dragons in the actual realm Zestiria takes place in.

Zaveid and Mayvin didn’t leave Lohgrin until nightfall because of the heat. It was much more dangerous to move among hellions at night, but it was detrimental to Mayvin’s health to try and make it through such extreme temperatures. Their plan was to begin work on finding a way to help Mikleo without killing him before ridding Sorey and Rose of their residual malevolence; Zaveid had specifically stated this to the Storyteller of Time even though the latter already understood that that was the goal. They got to the merchant’s checkpoint on the Great Camelot Bridge to take a rest and evaluate where exactly they were going.

“Part of me wants to head to their hometown Elysia, but that’s a long way from here,” Zaveid sighed. He crossed his arms and leaned against one of the peddler stands.

“And I doubt we would find anything on them there,” Mayvin supplemented. “Elysia is not their hometown. That much I can tell you without breaking my oath.”

“So you took an oath, too?”

“I had to if I wanted to last this long. Once we find the method to reverse the contamination and corruption that has taken over Mikleo, though, I may not be able to accompany you anymore. The Storyteller business is a tricky, risky one. Not one to be taken lightly.”

“I know. Lailah is doing her best to keep hers so that she can fight him off if necessary. Anyway, where should we go?”  
Mayvin pulled out all the maps he had purposed from special seraphim merchants called Turtlez whose job it was to travel the world meter by meter and draw out their paths. Thinking long and hard about the best places to check where there would be any hints, he packed away all but four maps: Gododdin, Westronbolt Gorge, Aifread’s Hunting Grounds, and Lakehaven Heights. Nothing in the trial shrine would be helpful, but the Shepherds who were stationed in them could potentially know something.

“If we head to Gododdin and talk with Ekseo, he might be able to point us in the right direction,” he concluded. He rolled up the map, stuffing it back into his pack then gave Zaveid a determined look.

The two of them left the checkpoint and headed south along the bridge. The hellions had always been particularly powerful in this area, and since the spike in malevolence throughout the continent, naturally they would have just gotten stronger. Zaveid made every effort to dodge them using his Windstep, yet there were still times where they were nearly ambushed by a crowd of them. Because he had broken the pact, he had suffered a cut in his power, and he wished to save his strength for any real obstacles.

The end of the Great Camelot Bridge brought them to Pearloats Pasture, which Mayvin commented was a sore sight with the dusty remnants of all the blighted crops. Zaveid remembered that they had planned to meet with Sergei in the morning those few days ago, so he wondered if they went with him back to Pendrago. He almost wanted to go check in on Lailah. If he did, there was no doubt that he wouldn’t be welcomed. In addition to the hostility he would have been faced with from a certain water seraph, there was also the presence of the corrupted domain that somehow had yet to destroy the cobblestone city. It would just be a little longer before he could return with good news, or any news for that matter.

“Might as well get on with it,” he resolutely said. He wouldn’t be visiting anyone for a long time, and he had accepted it. With Mayvin following behind, the robust wind seraph turned away from the city, heading towards the once verdant landscape of the Meadows of Triumph.

Mayvin picked up the pace after noticing that Zaveid was unusually quiet for a long time. He didn’t know him as well as Sorey or Mikleo, but he had pictured him to be a lot more talkative considering his appearance and the way he haphazardly wore the hat he took away Dezel’s passing. Given the circumstances of his going solo, he understood.

“You know, Zaveid, if you keep worrying about those kids and not focusing on the task at hand, you’ll be letting them down even more,” Mayvin told him.

Zaveid was silent.

“It’s terrible that Mikleo has switched teams, but he’s a seraph. He’ll get through it and return to normal eventually.”

“I believe he will, but for the time being, he’s a volatile one. I’m worried about Rose and Lailah right now. I know Mikleo won’t hurt Sorey, but the girls…I mean, he’s already offed Edna. Who will he target next?”

“I also didn’t expect you to be that concerned about everyone else. Don’t underestimate Rose. As strange as it sounds, she kicks into high gear when her friends are in trouble. If Mikleo does anything to anyone, she’ll put them down.”

“I don’t really want her to kill Mikleo, you know.”

“Neither do I, but if it comes to that—”

“It won’t. If anything happens to Mikleo…”

Zaveid’s voice trailed off. Having Mikleo fall or turn into a dragon wasn’t as bad as having Sorey fall. Fallen Shepherds brought on such widespread destruction; they had Heldalf as their prime example, and considering that Sorey—with help—was able to kill him meant that he was much, much stronger than the previous Shepherd. If anything, Lailah had done well in raising a Shepherd with such godlike power.

The duo had headed southwest to the Cambria Caverns. Thankfully, there was a straight path from the entrance to the Biroclef Ridge entrance, and scaling that wasn’t particularly difficult. The hellions were weaker and easier to avoid despite the narrows paths and passages through the rocky environment. Of course, the immediate area around the Malevolent Crucible Samghata was a hotbed for strong hellions, but they made sure that they steered far away from it.

Gododdin was a small town at the very top of the ridge and built on a plateaued surface into the side of the mountain. It was a poor town that was graced with a runaway pope who sold fake elixirs to help raise money for the people. Sorey and friends long ago had found out his secret, and he begged them not to tell the Rolance authorities. In return, he escorted them to the first trial—Igraine, the Shrine of the Fire Trial. The people of Gododdin were grateful to the Shepherd and his friends, but now there were only at most five people left in the village. The Lord of the Land had disappeared one day and never returned, leaving them for dead. Just outside the village were rows and rows of corpses covered with blankets and small flowers on their chests. Mayvin said a small prayer over the bodies while Zaveid peeked into the village to see what was going on. The remaining people looked like they were going to fall over any second; the plague from Marlind had somehow reached around Lastonbell to this hole in the wall. He looked at the bodies again until he registered the corpses of several children. It made sense that the elderly and children had died first.

“Let’s go. You can pray all day over them, but it won’t bring them back,” Zaveid indifferently said.

“I know.”

They didn’t speak to anyone while they were busy trying to clean up the decaying bodies before giving them a proper burial. They headed straight for the fire shrine, and when they stood before its grand flame-blocking door, Mayvin and Zaveid gagged. Malevolence was pouring out of the shrine, pure and unadulterated despair. They were aware that hellions were imprisoned in the trials as adversaries to test the Shepherd, but this malice was something completely different. One step into the shrine, and they could possibly turn into hellions themselves. But if they didn’t go, then they wouldn’t be able to find the first piece to the puzzle. They opened the door to the shrine, a rush of malevolence blasting out like steam from a broken pipe.

Getting to the summit of the fire shrine wasn’t going to be the hard part. Their stamina was being poured into keeping their head above themselves and not letting the malevolence settle into them. Zaveid left his worries and regrets at the threshold leading back into the ghost town. He was here for Mikleo, and he was prepared to die trying to save him. They pushed slowly through the malevolence as they neared the center of the shrine. Zaveid Windstepped across the floating platforms on the lava that surrounded the center. There was a monolith that gave the directions of the trial to the Shepherd. It detailed about other monoliths that were needed to neutralize the malevolence coming from what the target of the trial was. It had been months since Sorey had completed it, but it looked like it had been reset save for the floating platforms.

“You getting a bad feeling?” Mayvin asked suddenly.

“Like we’re not alone?”

“I don’t see him, but I feel Ekseo’s presence.”

Mayvin scanned the pillars surrounding the central platform until he found two glowing red eyes staring at him. It was Ekseo’s head, but it was much bigger than last time. In fact, Ekseo had grown into a drake that was nearing its transformation into a bonafide dragon.

“I’m not surprised that he lost himself to the malevolence,” Mayvin sighed once he caught the drake ogling his next meal. “Zaveid, we’ll have to get the secret at some point. Just help me take him down!”

“You got it!” The wind seraph swung his pendulums around until it dawned on him that they clearly wouldn’t have enough power to kill Ekseo. He was a Shepherd-turned-Seraph for a reason; he possessed an unfathomable amount of strength. It would have been in their better interest to avoid fighting him all together while searching each monolith for the secret. “We can’t possibly kill him!”

“Fine, I’ll distract him!” Mayvin threw whatever he could find from his pack at Ekseo. “Come here, big guy! Follow the birdie!”

Zaveid sprinted to the monoliths that lined the perimeter of the platform. Each one had some sort of incantation or lore about how the trial was created in different pieces, but at the very bottom of them were numbers. The battle raged on behind him.

“Zaveid, pick up the speed! I’m running out of items!”

“If they’re numbered, do I have to read them in order? But what do I read?”

Ekseo launched fire balls at Mayvin before turning his attention to Zaveid. That light that he still had at the center of his soul was quite attractive, as if it held even more power than the Storyteller of Time. He wanted to devour it. Mayvin tried everything in his arsenal to get him to attack him. If Zaveid was killed, there was no hope! There was one thing that he had been saving even if he was reluctant to use it.

“Luminous Sabre!” Mayvin called out as he charged at Ekseo.

Zaveid located the first of all the eight monoliths, touching them in order as fast as he could while trying to read their epitaphs. One by one the monoliths glowed and sank into the lava. Simultaneously as he touched the final monolith, Ekseo whacked Mayvin back to the entrance with his tail then accosted Zaveid with saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth and his teeth.

“Damn it all, Ekseo!” Mayvin yelled just before Ekseo tried to eat Zaveid. “You were a damn Shepherd! Act like one! Fight off the malevolence!”

Ekseo roared at the sound of Mayvin’s voice, giving Zaveid enough time to slip away behind him. The monolith next to Mayvin glowed as a new passage was etched into it. Mayvin read it, memorized it, and the two of them escape the shrine before Ekseo regained his bearings to chase after them.

Once outside, the Storyteller of Time sealed the shrine so Ekseo couldn’t follow them for the time being. If he were to get out, he would rather have the survivors of the plague die off first so no one’s suffering could empower him. Zaveid grabbed his shoulders.

“Please tell me you got what that monolith said!” he begged him uncharacteristically.

“Don’t worry. I’m not the Storyteller of Time for nothing. I memorized it as best as I could. Let’s go to the village’s entrance and discuss it. I’d rather not hang around here. Between this plague and Ekseo’s wrath, I’d like to live a little longer.”

Zaveid and Mayvin left Gododdin without saying goodbye to the now last four people; the latest casualty dropped dead tending to the other deceased villagers. He had more than likely contracted the disease from one of the bodies or worked himself into exhaustion. When they had reached a clearing in the Biroclef Ridge where there were a few rocks to relax on, Mayvin beckoned Zaveid for a sit-down.

“First things first, we were right to come here,” Mayvin began with an accomplished smile.

“It would make sense to do that, but…” Zaveid sighed.

“There’s nothing we can do for Ekseo. Now, let’s get to business.”

Mayvin pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. He wrote what he had read on the epitaph of the monolith:

_When swallowed by the turbulent storm,_  
_Everything will lie in ruin._  
_Voices of despair shall ring through the land,_  
_Scarred by the flames of anger._

“Well I guess it couldn’t be any more cryptic than that,” Zaveid said with disappointment. “At least it’s not hard to figure out that it’s talking about malevolence.”

“That much is obvious,” Mayvin agreed. “The problem lies in what the malevolence is affecting.”

Zaveid pondered about it. A storm would engulf entire lands. Could it be talking about the endless rain spreading through the continent? But how would an epitaph written millennia ago be able to predict the fall of humanity in such a specific way? The voices of despair were obviously the humans and seraphim that managed not to turn into hellions. But the two lines mixed in were still ambiguous.

“Naturally, a riddle isn’t supposed to be solved with one clue,” Mayvin said as he dragged on his pipe. He folded up the paper and handed it to Zaveid. He figured that since he was the one that would need it, he should hold onto the clues and piece them together as they went. Mayvin’s job was simply to memorize the epitaphs and write them down for future reference. “We should start heading to Lakehaven Heights for Lefay. Hopefully, Altul has turned into a dragon like Ekseo. Ah, it pains me to leave him like that, but we’re no match for him.”

Mayvin took the lead, slightly limping with every two steps. Zaveid asked him if he was okay, and merely said that it was a battle scar from being flung by Ekseo. It was a grim reality—if Ekseo had become a dragon, there was an extremely high chance that the other protectors of the shrines had met the same fate. Zaveid unfolded the paper with the first hint, the first line catching his attention again. It was eerily accurate to their situation. But how could the authors have known?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk about a cocktease from that last chapter! I really shouldn't joke about that considering what I was insinuating...I'm so sorry. But that said, lots of non-con in the next chapter.


	14. Desires that Cannot Be Contained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's getting harder and harder for Mikleo to keep his hands off the Shepherd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of things of the sexy variety (non-con and more). My smut proofer said that I no longer have rust on my ability to write smut, so I think I'm actually qualified now to write decent smut! :D Also inspirational songs for this chapter are Karma (KOKIA) and Red Moon (Kalafina).

Mikleo clamped down on Sorey’s wrists, bringing them together so he could hold them over his head with one hand while the other one’s fingers tenderly touched the center of his forehead, now devoid of the wet rag, and traced down his nose to his lips. He circled those pink thin cushions several times then caressed his burning cheek. Sorey lowered his guard only for a moment. Mikleo looked compassionate instead of passionate, like he was ready to make love instead of touch him inappropriately. Mikleo’s grip tightened on his wrists, and he remembered that this water seraph was not the one he grew up with and loved. He was wondering when he was going to go ahead and violate him; the anxious anticipation was killing him. He just wanted him to do it and to be done and to leave him alone!

“Sorey, you look so much hotter when you’re sick,” Mikleo crooned. He sniffed his hair.

The Shepherd turned his head to the side. He couldn’t look at him with the scarlet glint in his eyes. As Mikleo neared his exposed neck, he inhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut. He was quivering underneath his slim body. Why was he doing this? Did he enjoy making him uncomfortable?

Mikleo slowly licked up along the tendons that protruded from his neck into the soft grooves of the surrounding muscles. Even his sweat was just delectable.

“Can’t I just have a kiss?” he sweetly asked. He didn’t wait for Sorey to even consider the question. He forcibly turned his head back, tightened his grip again, and pressed his yearning lips into his. Sorey kept his mouth closed as rigidly as possible; he didn’t want him or any _part_ of him inside. Mikleo paused to ask, “Why are you being like this?”

“Because I don’t want this…!” Sorey retorted. His voice was weak, though, for this time there was a difference. Mikleo wasn’t behind him to torture him this time. He was finally tasting him, and he admitted inwardly that he had wanted to do so for the longest time. It was like taking a bite of his seraph’s homemade ice cream, but the malevolence added a bitter taste that was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t concede. It would only make things worse; it would only make them fall from grace.

Mikleo was getting irritated. He bit Sorey’s bottom lip hard so that the sudden pain wrenched his mouth open. Taking that chance, Mikleo pushed himself up to insert his earnest tongue down in as far as he could go. He swirled about in him, exploring every nook and cranny he could get into without choking him. Saliva trickled out of Sorey’s maw while he was trying to fight off his trespasser. The hand that had so gently touched his cheek was tunneling its way up his chest underneath his dark blue shirt, toying with his hardening nipples. The water seraph wanted him desperately to touch him like that, but he was lucid through his sexual haze to know that allowing Sorey even the slightest amount of freedom would end his fantasy.

Touching him like that sent elated shivers down his spine, and his cock was starting to peak. The more he tasted him, the more he touched him, the more he smelled him—everything was coalescing into a beautiful dream. Each kiss pushed him until he had to do something to keep himself from exploding from passion. He pushed his knee between his legs, nudging into Sorey’s balls as his wandering hand found its way down to his almost seizing stomach. He moved his knee once it became too uncomfortable to keep it in its place, replacing it with his pelvic area as he began to grind into him with need.

Sorey began to let out a series of breathy whines, both from arousal and from distress. It was a new development that Mikleo was starting to go through the motions of sex, but it had to stop before it went too far. But what could he do? He felt so exhausted from the cursed fever!

Mikleo stopped kissing him to take a break as he guided his hand to Sorey’s crotch. He palmed him, eliciting a terrified gasp as Sorey involuntarily arched his back. He gritted his teeth as if trying to stop himself from reacting that way. His body was acting against his will.

“Does it feel good? I can make you feel even better,” Mikleo lazily said.

He stuck his hand down Sorey’s pants before going down again to trap him in a flurry of sloppy kisses. When he accidentally brushed his finger across the tip, Sorey bit Mikleo’s lower lip so hard that a rather thick stream of blood poured from it.

“Get off! Get off, get off! Get off of me, please!” Sorey frantically screamed as he managed to wriggle his hands free. He threw Mikleo off of him, the fear clearly evident in his eyes. He gripped at his chest, hyperventilating, grabbing a fistful of hair. From his throat a growing shriek erupted so loud that Sergei and his underlings burst into the room. “Why? Why would he do this? Why does it have to be me? What have I done to deserve this?!”

“Sorey! Sorey, can you hear me? You’ve got to calm down!” Sergei implored. He tried to push Sorey down to lie down even though he was refusing to for fear that Sergei was going to violate him as well. “Everything is okay! I’m not going to hurt you!”

Lailah and Rose came in afterwards to seize Mikleo, but the water seraph was gone. He had snuck into the corner of the room and used his Spectral Cloak to hide for now. If anything, he wanted to escape without being noticed. Even if Sorey had once again denied him the satisfaction of deflowering him, he had to do something about himself. Seeing his object of affection writhing in pain and fear wasn’t snapping him out of his pleasures now.

Sorey finally quieted down to silent sobs. His clothes were in disarray, but Sergei assumed it was from flailing about. Rose, having seen all sorts of crimes, knew that that wasn’t the case. And the fact that he had been screaming for something to get off or _someone_ to get off was alarming in itself. She knew that the moment they followed in after the captain.

“Lailah, can you sense him?” Rose whispered to her.

“Only very faintly,” Lailah whispered back. Something was in the way, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

“I’m sorry, I took so long to get back to you,” Sergei apologized. He notified his men that he would be staying the night to take care of the Shepherd. He welcomed Rose to stay and help, to which she accepted the invitation in hopes of nabbing Mikleo. 

Lailah stood over Sorey, going through the numerous questions that formed in her mind that would best investigate what happened without sending him into distress. Being connected to him as the Prime Lord allowed her to feel the state of his mind, and she gleaned that he had been assaulted. Everything was numb, which was why she had to handle the situation with the utmost amount of care. Again, she knew Sorey didn’t want her to sever the pact binding Mikleo to all of them, and doing so would make matters worse on everyone on the continent. If things continued like this, though, she wouldn’t be able to hold back.

“W-Where’s Mikleo…?” Sorey asked after a moment of silence.

“We don’t know,” Lailah gently replied.

“It’s not his fault. I swear, it’s the malevolence. Symonne did this to him.”

There it was. He was taking up for him…again. Rose held her tongue in case he was going to break down again. She couldn’t stand that he was trying to validate Mikleo’s actions. She remembered that Sorey had acted funny that night at the inn in Ladylake as well. The curt reply back then was the first red flag that something had happened behind the closed door of the bathroom. Something had happened again. It was common knowledge that Mikleo was behind it, but it was finally clear to Rose at least that Mikleo had been doing deplorable things.

“If I find that scrawny brat, I’ll kill him myself,” she furiously murmured. “Doing _that_ to Sorey—to _anyone_ —is a crime worthy of death.”

“Lailah, please don’t do anything to him,” Sorey begged. He was starting to feel sleepy yet continued to plead.

“I won’t,” the kind fire seraph promised.

“But if we keep letting this go on,” Rose interrupted.

“Rose, this is a delicate problem. For now…Sorey, you just get some rest.”

Sergei glanced between Rose and Sorey, wondering what was going on. There was no Lailah, and who was the “him”? Who was “Mikleo”?

Mikleo had snuck out of the tower into the endless rain outside. He ran behind the tower where there was just enough room to slip through between the wall of the tower and the boundary of the city and let the Spectral Cloak vanish. He was shaking. He had done something reprehensible. The incident in Ladylake was bad, but this was much worse. The small part of him that was struggling to stay alive to be Sorey’s saving grace grieved for his actions that were out of his control. The evilness inside had flooded such a large portion of his heart that there was trepidation that the good in him would soon be ejected. The dream he had had that night—it was coming back to him vividly like a picture show had been set up in front of him and he had a front row seat to it. The shadows were closing in even while he was awake, and they pulled him down further and further and further into the degrading mess he was. He loved Sorey, and he wanted nothing more than his happiness and safety. He lusted for him, and he wanted nothing more than to bring him the devilish pleasure that he yearned for. The dichotomy in his soul was so much to bear; if only he could have ended it right there! But he knew that would only bring Sorey misery.

“I’m so sorry…!” Mikleo cracked. His eyes had cleared into the pristine violet they had been before they had killed Heldalf. He wanted to scream, to pray for him, and to turn into a speck of light and disappear. “I’m sorry that I did this to you! I’m sorry that I’ve brought myself to this condition!”

 _“But are you truly sorry?”_ a voice asked back. _“Can you deny that these two incidents were enjoyable? Can you be certain that Sorey doesn’t want this?”_

 _“Boy, don’t you think you’re being overdramatic?”_ another voice asked. _“You’ve managed to kill a friend, and you have no problem with overstepping your boundaries just because you two grew up together.”_

“Stop it…!” Mikleo beseeched. “I’m not doing this. I never wanted this for him!”

The two voices were familiar. The sultry tone of the first one, the antagonizing tone of the second—were Zaveid and Edna laughing at him now? Did they want revenge?

 _“Just give in; you’re in too deep now,”_ they said together.

 _“You’re already on this path of darkness,”_ a third—Dezel’s—voice came.

There was no fighting it without losing. The malevolence was too strong, too thick to see through. It came over him like the storm spreading throughout the land. A sickening haze like a black veil was pulled over his eyes as he let his hands explore his own body. His heart tried fervently to keep the darkness at bay, but it was only a matter of time. If Sorey wasn’t going to take part in it, he would have to amass enough of his love to force him to commit.

He opened his shirt slowly to massage his chest. His hands, which felt like someone else’s, slid down to his hips. The tips of his fingers danced on his ever-present erection until he palmed himself. He grimaced, the titillations sending both waves of heat and chills into his core. Unable to stand it anymore, he pulled out his throbbing member, wet his hands, and went to work in satisfying the hunger that he had developed. He cradled his sack as he slowly began to pump himself. Occasionally he slid his hand to caress his inner thigh; he picked up the speed until he was at his tipping point. He let out heavy breaths, his tongue hung lackadaisically out of his mouth, and his eyes glazed in sweet ecstasy. He wished Sorey was doing this to him, oh, how he wished he would just comply with him already!

“S-Sorey…! I…I love you, Sorey!” Mikleo panted and whimpered. 

Stars twinkling in his visionary field, his essence gushed. He leaned back against the wall in his narrow space. His body felt heavy, but he was relieved that the pressure and the tension had been dealt with. It had an opposite effect on him, however, as his appetite had been whetted. He may have been free of the current crippling desire, but he craved for more.

“To think I was ready to give this feeling up,” he chuckled to himself. “How could I be so stupid? If being a seraph meant ignoring these feelings and living a life without fulfilling that need, I’ll gladly give it up for Sorey.”

He fell down against the wall, falling asleep after readjusting himself. He would have gone to the inn, but he felt so relaxed that his muscles just didn’t want to listen. He soon began to dream about Sorey and how he would have done so many more things to him if they were allowed to be alone with each other in mutual desire.

In that brief moment of self-satiation, there had been a slight transformation. His clothes, once colored with light-blue and white and gold, had lost any indication of holiness. The blue drained into the parts that were white, becoming cobalt blue in the process. The belts on his corset, too, had become that color. Any fixing of gold was turned to silver, and the blue on his pants had darkened. The two tendrils of capes on his back matched his new color scheme, and his shoes became completely white. Mikleo’s clothes gave him the appearance of a false prophet.

***

Alisha woke to the sound of rustling in her room. She sat up with her royal dagger within reach. She had been feeling much better, so she was confident that she could fight off any intruders. At first she assumed they might have been petty thieves who must have thought she died a little over a week ago. She wouldn’t put it past Chancellor Bartlow to let her mansion and belongings be pillaged and pilfered.

“Who’s there?” she called.

The light of the moon illuminated the bedroom, but there was no one there. She got out of her bed to investigate each corner of her room.

“Shhh,” someone shushed by her door.

“I order you to answer: who is there?!” Alisha demanded again.

The door burst open and a fox-looking man with long golden hair and wearing the Scattered Bones uniform sped into the room. Lunging at her, he clamped his hand around her neck. It was a surprise, but she wasn’t about to let herself falter. She swept the arm on her away to free herself from his grasp. Her spear was in a different room, but all she would need was the dagger to fend off this person. The man’s eyes glowed gold even in the darkness of night.

“Come here, Princess,” he maniacally giggled. “I won’t be too rough!”

He fired a few balls of dark energy at her, which crashed into her walls and bed. He tried to claw her eyes out, but Alisha parried with her dagger and dodged as best as she could. They were stuck in a deadlock at one point, neither side willing to give in. Then something whipped her ankle, pulling her attention away and giving the man the chance he needed to pin her down again. Whatever had whipped her ankle stood on her hand as the man took her dagger and stabbed her hand so that she was tacked to the floorboards like a preserved butterfly.

“Sorry, dear Princess, but the city would be much better without you,” the man cackled. He grasped her neck.

He pushed her head up while still maintaining his vice-like grip. Alisha tried to struggle through the piercing pain in her hands. The man unsheathed his own dagger. In a few quick seconds, he slit her throat deeply enough to ensure that her arteries and veins were completely severed. She gurgled and gasped as she drowned in her blood. The sanguine liquid flowed like rivers from her neck so beautifully that the man almost cried in joy. He rolled her onto her side to make sure every last drop had been drained, and as her life force depleted, Alisha thought back on her time with Sergei. Tears rolled from her drying eyes that she wasn’t going to see him again.

“That’s all of it,” Symonne triumphantly said. “Good work. If you were my puppet all the time, I’d make you a better Lunarre than even the original.”

The Hyland knight, oblivious to Symonne's compliments, carried the deceased princess back to her bed and closed her eyes. He tucked her in as if she had been sleeping save for the long and deep laceration just under her chin. Symonne used an illusory arte to hide the massive bloodstain.

The next morning, the Hyland knight alerted Chancellor Bartlow in a conference with other councilors that there had been suspected foul play at the Diphda mansion. Certainly surprised by the untimely death of their Princess, a battalion of knights were sent to Rolance. The councilors were beside themselves, yet Chancellor Bartlow’s feigned concern wasn’t enough to hide the fact that he was quite pleased with what had happened. Things were falling into place thanks to the Shepherd, and soon, Rolance would bow to Hyland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry. But thanks to this chapter, a new archive warning has been added! Mainly because any type of neck injury is pretty gruesome. And it's been hell week, so updates are coming slower.


	15. Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lailah confronts Mikleo, Rose confronts Sorey, Lailah confronts Rose, and Symonne confronts Mikleo. Lots of confrontations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell week is done, so hopefully I can get back to updating this one as often as I'd like.

The physician felt Sorey’s forehead, nodding and smiling softly. He held up a random number of fingers and asked him to count them. He listened to his breathing and his heart beat calmly in his chest. Now there was one more test.

“Sorey, you had a panic attack yesterday, which caused you to collapse,” the old physician recalled. “Can you tell me what happened to make you scared like that?” He had kind blue eyes and a mousey mustache.

Sorey couldn’t bring himself to tell him about Mikleo. He wanted to keep what he did a secret for fear that Lailah or even Rose was listening through his bedroom door. It was a horrid act, but he believed his love was stronger than the malevolence. He was also frightened, deathly frightened, of what Mikleo could do and what would happen to him if people judged him for his actions. He wasn’t bad; Symonne had done this to him. He couldn’t forget that.

“One of my closest friends died not too long ago,” Sorey said.

“But—I see,” the physician answered. He wasn’t necessarily licensed to assess the mental stability of his patients, but he assumed that perhaps the Shepherd hadn’t fainted from a panic attack but from post-traumatic stress disorder. He understood that he was the world’s last hope, so having him in optimum condition was his job. “If it helps, perhaps talking more about it with me would do you some good.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to.”

“But, Dearest Shepherd, suppose the memory comes back during a battle? It’s a matter of life and…well, I’m sure you know the other half of that idiom.”

“I can’t.”

The physician saw he wasn’t going to budge. He concluded that Sorey overall was on his way to recovery despite still having a slight fever. He estimated that by evening-time he would be “right as a sunflower” again, and he suggested that he stay close so that way there weren’t any repercussions or relapses. Sorey agreed, just thankful that he wasn’t pressing to know any more of what had really happened.

“The examination is complete,” the physician called to the door. “You may enter.”

Rose and Sergei took this as their signal to come in. Rose looked her “husband” over as if to verify that the physician had truly taken care of him. When she was satisfied, she thanked him for his work before the latter proceeded to talk to Sergei off to the side.

“The Shepherd is recovering, but I still suggest that he should rest as much as possible,” the physician began, “It seems he is being troubled by something nasty. I tried to ask him what was wrong, but he refused to tell me. He said that a friend had died recently, but usually patients who have witnessed death are willing to talk to me. His response was very…unnatural—hushed, even. With your consent and his, I would like to stay here for the day until the next morning.”

“Do what you have to do,” Sergei permitted. “Sorey is an asset that we can’t afford to lose, not when Rolance and Hyland are on the brink of peace.”

“Thank you, captain. Now, you mentioned that he was panicking last night?”

The Rolance captain began to recount what he had heard. As the physician listened, he became more and more perturbed about Sorey’s sanity, and he became more and more interested in learning about his affliction. He had his ideas, but he wasn’t about to say them in front of Rose, and Sergei was by no means any relation to him. It was something strictly personal to Sorey.

“Lailah, have you found Mikleo yet?” Rose whispered as the two older men conversed away from her.

“Not yet,” Lailah replied.

“Lailah…” Sorey began, but Lailah reiterated that she wouldn’t harm Mikleo.

“I’m just going to give him an earful about his actions.”

Lailah sneakily opened the door then left the Knights’ Tower to survey the area for her subordinate. She was finding it harder and harder to tell her Shepherd that she wouldn’t harm Mikleo. Every time she told him that everything would be okay, she wanted to recant it and be honest with him that she would have to punish Mikleo harshly somehow. She frequently thought about using her purifying flames on him, but would they really have any effect on him since he was this far gone? It couldn’t hurt to try, but she would have to trap him first.

Lailah walked some distance out into the open. She looked up at the morning sun that was partially covered by the recurring storm clouds; it was still early but not so much that the dwellers of Pendrago wouldn’t be up. She figured that heading to the inn was the best thing to do at the moment. She started on her way.

“I didn’t expect you to be up so early,” an irksome voice came from next to the Tower. Mikleo was leaning against the wall, and Lailah noticed his new outfit. His eyes, shining scarlet mixed into the violet, softened. “Is Sorey okay?” he asked sincerely.

“Mikleo,” Lailah uttered. It was all she could say upon seeing this transformation. His languid movements sent shivers up her spine; he was much more dangerous than before. She mustn’t show fear. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Then let’s hear it.”

The proposition was a simple trade-off. Mikleo was to reveal what he had been doing behind closed doors to Sorey, and in return, Lailah wouldn’t attempt to kill him. It was better for her to know than Rose, and she promised that she would keep it a secret. Yes, an empty promise to sate him. It was perfect bait to catch him and purify him of some of his malevolence. That is, if she still had a chance. 

Mikleo mulled it over in his head. He weighed the pros and cons, and when he found that there was no real pro to this situation, he cackled creepily similar to how Symonne usually did. He was confident that Lailah wasn’t even able to land a dying ember on him. It was, however, an opportune moment to gloat about his love for Sorey. Even if it hadn’t been every night, he relished in just the memories of touching him in his most guarded of areas—areas that Lailah or Rose or any one other person or seraph would never get to explore. Sorey and Mikleo were in love, and anyone who got in the way of their relationship would be effortlessly cut out of the picture.

“I may have had a hand in last night,” Mikleo teased. “Or maybe Sorey was just having a bad nightmare. Who knows what was really going on?”

“Sorey mentioned your name,” Lailah countered. “He’s been begging me not to do anything to our contract or you personally, but you’re pushing your luck. Soon my hand will be forced.”

“You can keep giving your empty threats, Lailah. If anything happens to me and it’s found to be your fault or Rose’s fault, you’ll have doomed everyone.”

Lailah let out a sigh. As exasperated as she was with his egotistical behavior, she had to admit that he was right. She wasn’t trying to pick a fight with him; she wanted to find a balance between the two of them. She wanted to work with him to stop the malevolence and to help Sorey.

“If you truly cared about him, wouldn’t you be more willing to stop the pain that the malevolence is causing him?” Lailah asked.

“Resistance is futile. I may not have fallen completely yet, but I’m starting to learn that if you just embrace it, it stops hurting.”

“Is that your end goal? Are you planning to fall?”

“You really need everything spelled out for you, don’t you? Why do you think I’m not doing anything about it?”

It wasn’t necessarily a revelation, but Lailah was still disillusioned that Mikleo was completely lost. If she could have peered inside his mind or his heart, she was sure that she would have found the reason for his yielding to the poison in him. All she could do now was pray that Mikleo still had a little piece of his former self in reserve. Her purifying powers wouldn’t be able to save him, but if Sorey were able to straighten him out, he might be able to tap into that speck of light.

She ended the conversation and headed back into the Tower. She didn’t tell Rose of her confrontation with Mikleo because it was obvious that she would go after him and attack him. She had been resentful towards him since last night, barely sleeping due to her anger perpetuating through the early morning hours. Mikleo wouldn’t hold back if she went after him either. In all of this conflict, Sorey would lose hope. He loved everyone, but Mikleo was special to him.

When Lailah returned to the bedroom where Sorey had been staying and noticed that the physician and Sergei had left some time ago, she found that neither human looked too happy with the other. “Is everything alright?” she cautiously asked.

“Lailah, _please_ tell me you found that watery piece of crap!” Rose demanded of her.

“Lailah, don’t tell her!” Sorey begged of her.

“For pity’s sake, Sorey! Can’t you see that he’s hurting you?!”

“I-I don’t care! As long as he doesn’t turn into a dragon, I’m fine with it!”

“You idiot, either way he’s going to turn! Let’s just put him out of his misery now!”

“No! He means too much for me to just let him die!”

“ _Everyone’s_ going to die if you don’t cut the crap and let him go!”

“Both of you stop it right now!” Lailah shouted over them. Sorey and Rose averted their gaze from her and from each other.

Things were becoming worse, and Lailah was beginning to fear that Mikleo’s malevolence was causing them to turn on each other. She implored them not to let their feelings get carried away. She asked for both their sides—Rose suspected Mikleo of sexually assaulting Sorey, but Sorey was so concerned for Mikleo’s well-being that he was willing to pretend it didn’t happen to protect him. Against her better judgment and her gut feeling, Lailah sided with Sorey. She had to keep the peace a little longer; she had to wait for Zaveid to come back with a solution to her ever-growing problem.

Rose, on the other hand, was appalled by Lailah’s decision. If it were in her power to order her to end Mikleo’s life, she would have done it in a heartbeat. She didn’t understand how they could be so blasé about the entire affair; Sorey was the purest being, but it was suddenly okay to let Mikleo taint him? To do deplorable things to him?

She pulled the fire seraph outside into the hall. “What are you _thinking_?! If we let this go on—”

“I know how you feel, but remember that this is an extremely sensitive case,” Lailah whispered. “Explicitly talking about killing Mikleo will only make things worse.” She held Rose’s hands. “We need to trap Mikleo and try to purify him. There’s a great chance it won’t work, but…I don’t want to kill him. For Sorey’s sake.” Lailah couldn’t hide it anymore because if she did, Rose would never understand her reasons. She told her about her talk with Mikleo only moments ago even though she had vowed to herself to keep it under wraps. 

Hearing how different he had become from the cactus-like Mikleo they had come to know and love, Rose teared up. She was hit with some many emotions—anger, sorrow, compassion. She reentered the bedroom to apologize to Sorey, who asked for forgiveness as well. He understood why they wanted to punish him, but even with the comprehension of the present state of the world and his own soul, he could not let them do anything to him.

Meanwhile Mikleo remained outside. It was slowly getting darker as another wave of rain was preparing to bludgeon the city. Unsure if it was the rain or if he was just exhausted from his tomfoolery from the night, he didn’t feel well. He sat against the side of the Tower, curled up with his forehead resting on his knees. He was careful not to place too much weight on his circlet, but even still, he managed to cut it his skin just under it. The slight sting surged as he touched the scratch. Bright red filled the grooves of his fingerprints.

“I can’t believe I said those things to Lailah…” he regretted. “The malevolence really is getting to me…” He hugged himself as if to hold onto his speck of light that was sinking in the swamp developing in his soul.

Symonne suddenly appeared before him with a smirk that reflected how much she delighted in watching him battled against his sins. “You’re growing into a fine example of what it means to accept fate,” she giggled. “Tell me, was it so bad to just give in?”

“Symonne?”

“The one and only.”

Mikleo summoned his staff. Regardless of how much malevolence he had in him, he knew that he couldn’t let her go without at least trying to weaken her by some percentage.

“Relax, I’m not here for your idiot Shepherd. I wanted to see how my lovely project was coming along.” She tiptoed around in a sort of syncopation like she was there to appeal to him. “By the looks of things, you’re almost there. We just have to do something about that last little bit of light in you.”

Mikleo used Twin Flow against her to put some distance between them. He didn’t feel like fighting, but he couldn’t let her near the Tower where Sorey was recuperating. He didn’t care what happened to Rose and Lailah, but he would do anything to keep Sorey safe from this witch.

“What’s with the hostility? Well, I guess I might as well do what I’m actually supposed to do. Ever since you talked that fat old man into killing Alisha, his kingdom has been advancing to Pendrago.”

“You mean, he really killed her…?”

“Of course! You made such a nice offer. I suspect that by just after midnight tonight, the Hyland forces will be breaking down these walls to kill everyone!” Symonne let out a cackle.

It was what Mikleo wanted, and he was yearning for more death and despair so he could fill Sorey with it. In his heart, he knew it was wrong though. He didn’t want unnecessary people to die for his love; it would make him fall prematurely. Symonne smirked again then disappeared, leaving Mikleo to contemplate about what to do with the ones he had previously considered his friends.


	16. Besiege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once Alisha was taken out of the way, Hyland began their advance to Rolance. Will Mikleo be able to convince Lailah and the others to protect Pendrago?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debate night. Ironically enough, this chapter reveals the extent to which Hyland and Rolance hate each other.

Soon after Alisha was murdered, Chancellor Bartlow grinned as he looked at the map of his captain’s proposed battle plans. The strategist had circled five key points of entry, two of them being where there was the wall around Pendrago. The rains that had blighted the pastures around the Rolance city had most likely weathered down the stone walls, which made them easier to break especially since the rains were almost corrosive. The councilmen of Ladylake had rounded up their troops into their squadrons. The advance to Pendrago was nigh.

The squadrons stood at attention in front of Rountabel Palace with their captains rallying them and counting them to make sure they could carry out their plans. Once preparations were complete, Chancellor Bartlow appeared in front of them.

“Soldiers!” he began. “Tonight shall be the night that goes down in history when Hyland conquers Rolance! We shall be victorious! We shall eradicate the Rolance scum! We shall be eternal!”

Thousands of cheers rang out from the army that had collected in front of him that echoed from the city all across Lakehaven Heights. Symonne watched on from behind them. The fact that so many men were ready to slaughter everyone they saw of the enemy kingdom no matter what filled her with so much joy that she was sure that Heldalf would have been pleased with her amount of destruction. She figured that telling Mikleo that the army was coming was going to be a bad idea, but then she realized that because he had become such a malevolent being, there was little to no chance that his friends would listen to him. Even if his light somehow pierced through the darkness she had instilled in him, they wouldn’t believe him, and if they did, they were still in trouble. At this point, any warning to retaliate against the Hyland army was useless.

Rolance matched Hyland’s army, but their captain was adamant about peace; he wouldn’t kill unless it was absolutely necessary. He was too pure to wage war, just like Alisha. Symonne had wished that Mikleo had set him up as well so that the two armies would go at it and kill each other automatically. If she could get the armies to mindlessly slay each other, there would be enough malevolence to throw a captured seraph or two into the middle of it and give birth to dragons. It wasn’t a bad idea, and she started fantasizing about sending Lailah to her scaly death first. She had always been a thorn in her side; but she was part of the reason that Shepherds lost themselves in despair. Symonne knew her secret, and she knew why she had been trying so hard to keep Sorey happy and full of hope. She didn’t want to repeat her past mistakes, especially with someone who had enough power to kill Heldalf. It was because of his power that Symonne deeply wished for Mikleo to make him fall. He could decimate whatever was left of the world in half the time it would have taken Heldalf, and life could begin anew.

The Hyland army marched through the streets of Ladylake, its citizens cheering them on to kill as many Rolance civilians as possible and to bring back their heads as trophies. Even better—the citizens were just as corrupted as the soldiers. Ladylake was a delicious feast of malevolence! Symonne couldn’t be more ecstatic with the results of Sorey’s ferocity from that fateful day!

Outside the city boundaries, the hellions grew and grew, raging against each other and ripping themselves apart as the malevolence drove them mad with hunger. Zaveid and Mayvin, who had just reached the murky waters of the lake, were brought to their knees. Zaveid retched and nearly passed out, but Mayvin used his power to temporarily shield them from the evil forces around them.

“Something bad is happening,” the old man coughed. “We’d best get to Lefay as soon as possible.”

The Hyland army exited the city and headed out on their five-day journey to Pendrago with several large catapults in tow. Just the idea of finally murdering their nemeses and burning their beloved city was fuel enough for them—perhaps it was more than enough. As they marched on through the lands of the dying Glenwood Continent, they bellowed like animals for the king of Rolance’s head and for the death of all who live in his kingdom. Nothing was going to stop them from killing them, not even the plague that was spreading from Marlind or the storms that were burning away at the Volgran Forest’s leaves like acid. At night, the moon that shone high above the land and pierced through the malevolence was red as if already stained by the impending death.

When the Hyland army reached Lastonbell, they purposely scared the citizens away into their homes and shops to make way for their artillery. They stole whatever they wanted be it food or weapons or random knickknacks. And then they left. Things in the City of Artisans were silent, and the people too afraid to come out.

***

Mikleo was stricken with fear upon hearing that Hyland was on its way to destroy Pendrago. He had to do whatever he could to protect Sorey. Or would they even try to kill him? He was the one—albeit with Mikleo manipulating him—that set this in motion. He couldn’t tell Lailah and Rose about that, but if Rolance were to spar him among everyone else, it would be obvious that they were in cahoots with them.

And if they found out that he had a part in Alisha’s death, one of them would undoubtedly try to kill him. He had surrendered to the malevolence in him, but he felt guilt for what he had enacted to be with Sorey. Because of this, it was going to fall on the Shepherd. He could no longer save the damned but merely add to their numbers. His chest pained him as he thought about it. He wanted things to fall into chaos, but everything was happening quicker than he expected; and he never anticipated that Hyland would use Alisha’s death to destroy Rolance—at least, not as soon as she died.

Like in a nightmare, he trudged towards the Knights’ Tower door while it stretched farther and farther away from him. If he didn’t get to it now, there was no telling if he would be able to alert his friends. Could he still call them his friends? Wouldn’t they hate him? Should he not bother to tell them?

“I have to tell them…for Sorey’s sake!” the tainted water seraph rationalized. His trembling fingers wrapped around the door handle. Time returned to normal in his mind, and he hastily ripped the door open and climbed the short way to the extra infirmary rooms where Sorey had been staying. “Sorey will be in trouble!” When he arrived and opened the door, he found that his precious Shepherd was standing albeit he was leaning on Rose. Seeing that Rose was so close to him, Mikleo almost felt like hiding the information on the Hyland advance. Perhaps they would help him and kill her for him. The little light in him protested, and he entered the room.

“M-Mikleo?” Sorey uttered timidly.

“What does he want?” Rose muttered.

“Oh, I take it that you’re referring to one of the seraphim?” Sergei assumed. He had been finalizing things with the physician, whom had just left the room.

“Yeah, somehow,” Rose replied, though she had meant it as an insult.

Sorey left Roses’s side for Mikleo, and as he sluggishly approached him, he hugged him tightly. He thought he had lost him, had hurt him by pushing him away. From the regular humans’ point of view, it looked like he was simply hugging the air, but Mikleo hesitantly hugged him back. Was he allowed to return the favor? Or should he have been punished for what he had done? It was a question that continued to nag at him until Sorey let go of him to get a good look at his face. Aside from the reddish tint, his eyes were still violet; he still looked like his Mikleo and not like the demon that had stolen his face from the night before.

“They’re coming,” Mikleo told him, his fist clenching his ceremonial garb.

“Who?” the Shepherd softly and gently inquired.

“The Hyland Army is on their way; everyone needs to prepare for attack.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Rose retorted. Lailah placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t actually believe him, do you?”

Sergei grew stern. He briskly walked to the door. Even if it was a lie, there was no harm in appointing his men to their positions to counterattack the enemy. It was better to be ready for the threat of war than to turn a blind eye to it. He wasn’t sure why Rose was against listening to a seraph; he only knew that things were getting more and more dangerous and perplexing. Alisha had promised peace talks, so why was her kingdom’s army on its way? Did she really lie to him?

“Lies or not, I will meet their forces with mine,” Sergei spoke. “Sorey, Rose, if you are feeling up for it, then join me in defending Pendrago. Regardless of my relationship with Alisha, I refuse to fall to Hyland.” The captain of the Rolance knights left to rally his men while Sorey, Rose, and Lailah gathered around Mikleo. The two girls pressed on for more details like how he knew that they were coming.

Mikleo carefully explained his encounter with Symonne only moments ago, and while he explicitly said he had simply gone out for some air, Rose accused him of treason. Lailah had an idea of why the fallen seraph would show her face; she had created this incubating monster after all. She told Rose that there was enough reason to believe him since Symonne thrived on conflict.

“We should hurry to Sergei’s side,” she ultimately said. “Ladylake and the other cities in the Hyland Kingdom are being fueled by hatred. There’s a very high chance that at least some of the soldiers have turned into hellions.”

And she wasn’t too far off. By the time they had gone outside to find Sergei, the thunders of battle had already sounded. Mikleo’s warning had come too late, and Hyland soldiers were already burning homes and businesses and breaking the walls around the city. They had ambushed bits and pieces of Sergei’s squadrons that were only patrolling the streets. The Rolance knights had no defenses other than their spears and sword that were pinned to them in the event citizens got rowdy. They were meant to frighten them, not to kill their adversaries.

Sorey, Mikleo, and Rose—armatized with Lailah in case they needed a bird’s view of the situation—took to the northern district. Here was already littered with bodies. A percentage of them were burned, another group lay in a pile with multiple stab wounds, and small minority was swept to the side without their heads. Three Hyland soldiers all covered in streaks of coagulated blood dragged the innkeeper’s family out into the open.

“Please, you don’t have to do this!” the receptionist pleaded. She cradled her baby in desperation.

“Just take me! Don’t hurt my wife and child!” the cook sobbed.

There was no hesitation, no remorse, and no other emotion but blind rage. Each soldier took a member of the family. The cook was beheaded, the wife was pierced through her head, and the baby…

Sorey watched the horror. The Battle at Glaivend Basin was a nightmare, but the atrocities happening before him were so gruesome that he reflexively vomited where he was. Rose, hardened to the grim reality of death, was unmoved. After witnessing the death of the innocent family, she heavily walked up to the soldiers. They had turned into hellions the moment they killed them; they weren’t people anymore.

“Sorey, find Sergei and help him,” she told him. “His men are no match for the Hyland Army.” She unsheathed the Sacred Blade. “Lailah, am I going to gain malevolence?”

 _“You will if you latch onto hate,”_ Lailah responded. _“They’re hellions, so as long as I can get a chance to purify them, it will be okay. I know you’re angry, but remember that our job is to reduce malevolence, not give into it.”_

As Rose faced the three hellions, Mikleo pulled Sorey to the eastern district again. “We have to find Sergei!” he repeated so Sorey could regain himself. “Let’s go ahead and armatize; we have to take out anyone that threatens him!”

 _“Luzrov Rulay!”_ Sorey coughed. He never noticed Mikleo’s change in apparel, and he didn’t notice then that the colors of his armatization had become grey with cobalt and gold accents.

Sorey and Mikleo ran to the gala grounds where Sergei had been cornered on the stage by five hellion soldiers. He had already received a few wounds, but none of them seemed life-threatening. Still, a wounded comrade was essentially a dead comrade.

“Elixir Vitae!” Sorey and Mikleo said together. Sergei’s wounds healed immediately as he leapt over the hellions to be by his side. “Don’t worry, Sergei, we’ve got this!”

“Great!” Sergei smirked nonchalantly. With Sorey with him, he felt invincible. 

They were back to back. Sergei dove in first, taking on three of them at the same time while Sorey and Mikleo put some distance between them and the other two. Sergei used his Lion’s Howl Arte while the armatized Shepherd alternated between Maelstrom and Squall Rain. When they defeated one hellion, two more showed up until they were lost in a sea of them. The bloodcurdling screams and cries of the Rolance knights and civilians alike gradually diminished as they were executed all over the city, leaving Sorey to wonder what Rose was doing. But he couldn’t blame her. They were too late in acting against them, and Rose was only one person. Even while armatized, Lailah’s fires couldn’t mow down all of them at once.

 _“Sorey!”_ Mikleo called. He de-armatized just as a hellion snuck up behind Sorey.

When Sorey turned around, everything happened in slow-motion. From the corner of his eye, Sergei was overpowered by the hellions and captured. In front of him, Mikleo jumped up just enough so that his back shielded Sorey’s head from the hefty blade of a halberd. The shining metal was lodged about two inches deep between his shoulder and neck, but the adrenaline from the fight had numbed him until Sorey’s petrified face brought to light that something had happened to him. The pain leaked into his body, slowly and gradually until the blade was removed from him. Blood flowed from the gash. Before long, Mikleo couldn’t handle anymore. He wobbled then fell into Sorey’s arms, his eyes wide and full of shock. Unable to stay awake, Mikleo’s body went limp as the hellions grabbed up Sorey. The Shepherd brought the critically wounded seraph inside before he was tied up along with a blacked-out Sergei. The pain that Mikleo was experiencing radiated in the same spot on his shoulder.

“We’ve captured the Rolance captain and the Shepherd!” the hellions celebrated. They hoisted the two of them over their shoulders and carted them back to Ladylake like luggage.

The Hyland soldiers did not rest the whole way back to their city; they were much too excited that they had captured their targets. Sergei and Sorey were starved on the way back albeit that the former had been knocked out. Sorey struggled with Mikleo’s pain, occasionally himself passing out. Seraphim were supposed to regenerate their health when they were inside, but Mikleo’s condition remained unchanged.

During one of the times his body shut down to buffer his mind from the wound, he dreamt about Mikleo when he was five years old. That child was crying and begging for him to help him. There was nothing but darkness around him, and when he came into focus, his arm was completely cut off.

He knew that he still had his arm, but was that image what Mikleo was feeling?

Sorey woke up in a chair in Chancellor Bartlow’s drawing room untied but feeling heavy with fatigue. The drawing room was eerily quiet; the dim light of the red sunset was only able to squeeze through the divide in the curtains. Sergei was nowhere to be found. 

“Mikleo, are you okay?” Sorey whispered to himself.

 _“S-So…rey…it hurts…”_ the voice, usually confident and nonchalant, whimpered meekly. In the ephemeral space of their soul, Mikleo laid at his feet miserably, his breathing labored and his body shivering from blood loss. _“Where’s…Lailah…?”_

“I don’t know. Can you come out?”

The water seraph didn’t answer.

“Mikleo, answer me!”

_“I can’t…I can’t…”_

Chancellor Bartlow walked into the room with a bottle of red wine, two goblets, and a triumphant but dastardly grin. For him to personally bring Sorey something to drink, the Shepherd felt something was off. After setting a goblet on the side table next to him, Chancellor Bartlow filled it to the brim with wine for him then poured himself only half that much. He sat in a chair across the room, spinning his drink repeatedly between his fingers back and forth. He was expecting something.

“Your plan worked, Honorable Shepherd,” he congratulated.

“What do you mean?” Sorey interrogated. “Where is Sergei?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that trash.”

Something about that command made him feel sick. Mikleo knew what the greedy old man was talking about, and he couldn’t afford for Sorey to hear him. He forced his way out of his Shepherd.

“Sorey, don’t listen to him,” Mikleo ordered, straining to prop himself up. “Whatever you do, don’t listen to him!”

“You’re quite the joker, Shepherd. I’m talking about your plan to—”

In a panic to make sure that his lover didn’t learn the truth; Mikleo ran up to him, covered his ears, and kissed him. He breathed on his lips, demanding that Sorey say his true name. When he armatized with him, Sorey fell unconscious only to wake up with the water seraph at the wheel of his mind.

“Killing Alisha was so much easier than I expected! I really have to thank you!” Chancellor Bartlow continued.

“You idiot!” Mikleo snapped before cringing in pain. “Can’t you learn to keep your mouth shut until I tell you to speak?”

“Y-Yes, milord. Please, drink the wine. It’s a special brand that we of the council only drink when victory has been awarded to us.”

“I’m going to give him back control. Just stay quiet about Alisha!”

And Mikleo separated from Sorey. He would have mediated the entire encounter had he not felt so weak. Armatizing in such a state was potentially dangerous as well. It was true that while inside, seraphim were supposed to recover from battle, but wound was so deep that it would take a while for it recover without Lailah’s help. For now he would have to simply jump in and out to curtail anything that Sorey wasn’t allowed to hear. Sorey wasn’t supposed to know about Alisha. If he heard that the first human he had ever encountered was dead now, he would fall, and that just couldn’t happen!

“Drink the wine, Good Shepherd,” Chancellor Bartlow urged.

Sorey did as he was told. It went back and forth with the devious chancellor pushing him to drink and exhausted brunet just obeying what he was told to do. With half the goblet emptied, he began to feel a buzz, and using this as a cue, Chancellor Bartlow beckoned his butler to bring a burlap sack with more what seemed to be red wine dripping from the bottom of it. The alcohol was blurring Sorey’s sight but he could tell the wine was creating splotches on the carpet. When Chancellor Bartlow opened the bag and poured out its content, Sorey at once came out of his inebriated state and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think taking slightly longer to post the chapters work for my schedule better, so yeah.


	17. Dried Up Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Hyland army was on its way to Pendrago, Zaveid and Mayvin had arrived at Lefay for the next hint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the first half of the next chapter are going to be something like flashbacks since all these events happen simultaneously with at least one other. This is also a short chapter (mainly because as much I love Mikleo and the music in this dungeon, I did not like the water temple).

The giant waterfall that hid the entrance to Lefay, the Shrine of the Water Trial, no longer gushed with crystal water. Its flow had been replaced with muddy, possibly brackish, water; the brown tint had blackish-purple wisps of malevolence mixed into it. Even the stone that flanked either side of the waterfall looked weathered away. It wasn’t smooth but rough and crumbly as if a single gust of wind was all it would take to cause it to collapse in on itself. In fact the whole thing now had the appearance of a cesspool, which brought a wave of hopelessness over the wind seraph and his guide to the hints in each trial.

“Water is easily influenced by malevolence,” Mayvin reminded Zaveid. “It has a special purity in it that brings relief and happiness to any living thing. Water is often seen as a symbol of serenity and peace, but it can also spell destruction and death for those who aren’t careful. It’s a shame that Lefay had to be affected this much by the state of the world.”

The two of them stood at a ledge that dropped off into an abyss or a hole in the ground that seemed to go through to the other side. The corrupted liquid bubbled out of it with an implicit threat of swallowing them up.

“Seeing this makes me even more worried about Mikleo and Sorey,” Zaveid said. Lefay was the perfect example of what was going to happen to the water seraph if he continued on the path he was forced on, for Zaveid likened the transformation to what he had seen happen to Edna. Would he lose himself to his hatred and desire? If he did, would he inadvertently kill Sorey? “Just hang in there, kiddos.”

“To think that you would get this depressed over two kids you only recently met!” Mayvin chortled. “Come on, we’d best be going. Considering what we saw in Igraine, I’d rather not fight another dragon-type hellion.”

Zaveid carried Mayvin over the gap between the entrance to the shrine and the outside world via Windstep. The inside of the waterfall was worse than they had thought, especially now that there were poisonous mushrooms and other fungi growing in the darkness. Some of them were only toxic when eaten, but others emitted their spores when stepped on. It was difficult to see clearly; they did their best to avoid the mushrooms, especially the ones that spurted spores into the air since they had nothing to cure poisonings.

Together, Mayvin and Zaveid pushed open the doors leading into the beginning of the trial. The wind seraph hadn’t been with his new friends when they took on this trial either, but he had heard rumors from other seraphim that the water trial was particularly frustrating if you weren’t a water seraph. All throughout the trial were statues with the Evil Eye. Getting caught in its gaze would result in starting from the bottom and having to go through all the obstacles again. Such stealth missions were not necessarily Zaveid’s favorite, but he did manage to find his way into many confidential spaces back in the day.

Considering that it was built inside of a waterfall, it was safe to assume that there were multiple floors—more than what Igraine had. Just like Igraine, however, the trial had been reset. Mayvin didn’t sense any presence in the immediate area, causing him to either become suspicious or to wonder where the Guardian had gone. Altul was different from Ekseo. He still possessed a human form, and he was more prone to hiding in the shadows than being forthcoming. If anything, he probably sensed the danger of the malevolence then took to a deep part of the shrine to protect himself. But, as it was with Ekseo, hiding from the malevolence only worked for so long.

“Well, this one’s going to be a challenge, especially since we don’t have a specific type of seraph,” Mayvin sighed. “Windstep won’t help since moving at the speed of, well, the _wind_ doesn’t make us invisible.”

“So then, we’re stuck.”

“It seems so.”

Zaveid clenched his fists in frustration. Then he got an idea. What if they just break the trial? The shrine was falling into disrepair; they would have to fix it later anyway if humanity survived the Age of Chaos. Blinding the temple was the only way to get through it as lawless as it was. Zaveid led the way into the first corridor that allowed them to go either left or right. To make things easy, he punctured the Eyes in each statue; the insignias that marked where their sight had fallen were erased as they ceased to function.

“Yeah, this will be much easier than following the rules!” Zaveid proudly stated.

“As long as you don’t pick up any malevolence, I suppose this is _barely_ okay,” Mayvin mumbled behind him.

Breaking the statues allowed them to get through the shrine in half the time it had taken Sorey and his friends to complete it. There were no hellions to bother them, either. The shrine had become an easily surmountable ghost town that took them in circles until they had reached the entrance to the grand arena. It was here where Sorey had to purify a previous Shepherd who had adopted the name Asura after the powerful demigods in ancient mythology. Scratches from the battle were etched into the stone platform.

“Do you sense Altul anywhere?” Zaveid asked after the two of them scanned the arena and looked below at the crisscrossing stone walkways that rose from the ground in case they had passed him by.

“I’m not sensing anything—not even the malevolence has gotten this far,” Mayvin said, baffled that the evilness had actually been stopped at the bottom of the shrine.

Was it possible that the Evil Eyes were prohibiting it from flooding the shrine? Or had Altul created a domain to slow the progression? Creating a domain would have drained him of his remaining strength, but he had once been a Shepherd. He had to have unimaginable power to become a Guardian for Great Lord Amenoch of the Water.

A speck of light flittered down from above, growing bigger as it neared Zaveid and Mayvin, and Altul emerged from it. He was pale, his once reserved posture was now that like an old man’s and his brass mask cracked. He tilted his head to one side, and his fingers were compulsively curling and uncurling. Through the eye slits of his mask, they found that his eyes were clouded. He was blind.

“Altul?” Mayvin called.

“Who’s there?” Altul interrogated. “If you’re not the current Shepherd, then I must ask you to leave.”

“I’m the Storyteller of Time. What’s happened to you?”

Altul gasped. He at once begged for forgiveness then explained the taxing work that was keeping himself pure from the malevolence. The strain of expending such energy was damaging his body. He had contemplated committing suicide to be rid of the worry of becoming tainted and the pain of trying to stay pure. He was sure that he didn’t want to become a dragon. He had heard what happened to Ekseo, and it was difficult seeing one of his comrades go mad in his cage that was Igraine.

“But enough about me; why are you here, Great Stroyteller?” Altul asked.

“Sorey, the current Shepherd, and his Squire and seraphim have been tainted,” Zaveid hesitantly interrupted. No, he was eager to tell the Guardian in hopes that he would provide some sort of help. His reaction was not favorable.

“He’s…tainted? No, no, no! If he’s tainted, we’re going to die!”

Altul, who was normally stoic in all his mannerisms, panicked before resigning himself to the acceptance that death was the only way to be saved—a philosophy that Zaveid had once believed in before Sorey showed him there were other ways to save people.

“There might be a way to help him, though. We came from Igraine after finding a clue about a method to reverse the malevolence in his water seraph Mikleo. We figured that if we got hint there, we could get one from each shrine.”

The blinded Guardian ignored everything except for the tidbit about Mikleo. He reiterated water’s exceptional susceptibility to the malevolence. If a water seraph was corrupted, he had little to no hope of ever regaining his purity. Zaveid, in turn, refused to believe him. He wanted to put his faith in Mikleo that he could overcome the darkness. As the mediator, Mayvin ordered both seraphim to stop arguing. He forced them to compromise: Altul was to give them any hints and allow Zaveid to try while Zaveid was to accept that there was a large probability that the method would not work and give Altul the respect he deserved, much to the wind seraph’s chagrin.

“Mayvin, you can’t be serious! I’m not giving up on them!” Zaveid battled.

“Steeping in your own beliefs and living in denial is the best way to get yourself killed,” Mayvin chastised. “If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then look for another way.” The old man turned to Altul. “Whether or not you think we can save them is not the question; the question is what the next hint is.”

Altul couldn’t say no at this point when faced with their determination. He reached out to Mayvin for his guidance. Extending his light to them to give them an extra layer of protection as they head back down into the pit of malevolence underneath them, Altul revealed that the next hint had been under their feet the entire time.

The next hint lie in the small pool that served as the starting point for the trial. Anytime Sorey was spotted by the Evil Eye, he was instantly transported back to the entrance to start over. The pool glowed with light that still pierced through the malevolence, untainted and pristine as ever. Mayvin and Zaveid lowered Altul to the pool upon his request, and they watched him use the last of his power to reveal the hint in the water. The lettering of the hint shone gold through the ripples. The epitaph was another stanza of the riddle that stood between the Zaveid and the salvation he wanted for his friends.

Because there was no immediate danger in the area, Zaveid took out the crumpled piece of paper and the pen to write down the next clue:

_As time marches on,_  
_The soul loses hope._  
_In the muddied waters of sin,_  
_The eyes of light are blinded._

Again, it was more cryptic than they would have liked, and this time it was more open to interpretation. Zaveid compared the new epitaph to the previous one and put them together. His previous thoughts about them were no longer valid as far as the direct reference to the malevolent rain. The meaning was more abstract and more general than a specific weather forecast.

“Does it make sense? Or should I expla—?” Altul struggled to ask. He coughed before suddenly flopping over to the side. His breathing was shallow, and he required more effort than normal to continue it. Mayvin and Zaveid ran to his side. They were begging him to stay awake, but their voices became more and more garbled with the progression of a dizzying pressure forming inside his holy skull. The blurred shapes of their bodies were darkening.

Mayvin checked his slowing pulse. Once it stopped, he got to work trying to resuscitate him. They couldn’t have another Guardian become incapacitated. He pumped and pumped his chest, every once in a while blowing air into him; nothing was bringing him back. Altul had passed, and the only good thing that could have been said was that he didn’t have to share Ekseo’s fate.

Zaveid and Mayvin remained silent for they were unsure of what to do. They didn’t want to bury him outside exposed to the malevolence, but there was nowhere inside they could leave him. If they just put him in the small pool, anyone who found the shrine would desecrate his corpse by walking all over it. They returned to the arena platform at the top of the shrine with Zaveid carrying him delicately in his arms. When they arrived there, Mayvin laid him flat on the ground with his hands folded on his abdomen. He placed a protective barrier on his body so that even if the malevolence managed to get that high into the shrine, it would still take a while for it to permeate the body.

Leaving the shrine, Zaveid cursed himself for not being able to protect Altul. If a Guardian fell to the evil in the land, would Sorey really have a chance in regaining his purity and stopping it? He looked up at the grey sky. The Glenwood Continent was little more than a festering wound. If he wasn’t quick enough to attend to the infection, it would become septic, and when that time was to come, there would be nothing he could do to save the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to have a particularly gruesome scene, so just a word of caution. Also, so much for trying to take a long time to update this one. :P I went back and fixed an error through the whole fanfiction as well.


	18. Grim Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What had happened to Sergei after the skirmish in Pendrago? Where was Rose and Lailah? Can Mikleo save Sorey in time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First half or so of this chapter is a flashback showing what happened to Sergei. There is a graphic depiction of beheading; you have been warned.

While Sorey and Sergei were apprehended by the Hyland knights, Rose and Lailah were fending off the three that had slaughtered the innkeeper’s family and eliminating any others they could find. They were fatigued from taking them down. Unlike Sorey, Rose didn’t have the almost limitless capacity to purify hellions; whatever she managed to cleanse wasn’t completely absorbed by her but appeared to have dispersed into the air. Lailah burned away some of it so that even less was released. Still it only added to the malevolence in Pendrago that had been introduced by the Hyland Kingdom.

The chaos has subsided after the knights left. The Rolance knights were mostly sliced to pieces or stabbed in vital areas; their corpses littered the ruined city and mixed with those of the civilians.

Rose was used to death, but the amount of carnage that she witnessed and participated in made her feel sick. Was she still qualified to be Sorey’s Squire when she had a hand in killing so many of Hyland’s soldiers? Doubt sprouted in her heart. Lailah sensed she was upset with herself about it, yet she believed that she would be okay as long as she didn’t let it get to her.

“Rose, remember to keep faith close,” she tried to say as reassuringly as possible.

“I’m trying, but in a way, this is our fault,” Rose replied. “If we didn’t try to fight Heldalf—If Symonne hadn’t tainted Mikleo and forced Sorey to kill Heldalf in rage, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Lailah hugged her then winced in pain. The bond between her and Sorey was being strained; her Shepherd was no longer in the city, and if he went too far, the bond would break. Rallying Rose, she armatized with her to give her the extra jumping ability so they could catch up to him. Pendrago was destroyed, so there was no point in staying behind in the new malevolence generator. On top of that, if they didn’t leave soon before the malevolence from the victims enacted on their corpses, they would have much bigger problems.

The squadrons had a decent amount of ground covered by the time Rose and Lailah made it through Pearloat Pastures to the Meadows of Triumph, but they were still within eyeshot. They hung back, remaining hidden from their bloodlust. Any attempt to directly confront them would result in them getting killed. Rose used her speed to get close enough to them to see that they had two hostages.

“That’s—!”

 _“Do you think they have Sorey?”_ Lailah asked.

One of the Hyland soldiers turned around and spotted Rose. He alerted his men, and half of them picked up the pace to cart Sorey and Sergei off. The other half remained behind to stop the merchant-assassin from progressing.

“They’re getting away!” Rose growled. “Move it!”

“This girl works with the Shepherd,” another knight said. “Should we capture her, too?”

“No, we were ordered to only bring the Shepherd and the Rolance captain alive. All other persons are to be annihilated,” the now-established captain declared. “Chancellor Bartlow must not have any interruptions during his meeting with the Shepherd.”

“What does that monster of an old man want with Sorey?” Rose demanded to know.

Without an answer to her question, the Hyland knights initiated their attack. Five of them charged against her, but Rose was confident enough in her and Lailah’s ability to fight them head-on that she simply sliced and burned them away. Another five came at her, this time attempting to flank her from both sides. She leapt up into the air and fired flaming balls at them. If she got rid of the captain, perhaps they would stop coming after her.

Rose de-armatized from Lailah so the fire seraph was allowed to whittle away the enemy forces. Rose’s dexterity gave her the advantage, and she slid behind the captain, whom was taken by surprise but not at all outmaneuvered. He parried her daggers with his spear, throwing her down to the ground to pierce her. Rose moved out of the way just before the blade stuck into the crumbling dirt underneath her.

“Photon Burst!” Lailah called out as a sphere of fire encapsulated two of the soldiers. Seven more approached her. “There’s so many of them!”

“We’ve fought stronger and more hellions than these guys, Lailah!” Rose nonchalantly shouted from her fight with the captain. “Just gotta do what we always do!”

Lailah was surrounded by the soldiers. They were just hellions; she could go all out. She let them get close enough before she trapped them in a flurry of attacks and activated her Mystic Arte Concerto Infernus. In a vortex of fire, the seven soldiers were obliterated. At the same time, Rose kicked the captain in the head then stuck her daggers in. These people couldn’t be purified, but at least they were no longer a threat.

“Are you okay?” Lailah asked Rose. The Squire had a few bruises that were normal in fights, and she used Imbuement to heal them.

“It’s nothing too drastic,” Rose smiled. “We have to hurry to Ladylake. Whatever business that evil man has with Sorey can’t be anything good.”

It was something odd to Lailah. Chancellor Bartlow had never been fond of the Shepherd and his acquaintances—human or seraphic—so why was he suddenly interested in Sorey? Had something happened to Alisha for all this to happen?

Rose armatized with Lailah again, and the two together leapt through the land behind the remainder of the army.

***

Sergei was dropped into the dungeon in the Vivia Aqueduct for holding until the Hyland knights had shown proof of his capture—piece of his cape—to Chancellor Bartlow. Sorey was treated with a little more care as he was chained to the wall instead of being tossed among the remains of former prisoners. The dungeon had always been overflowing with malevolence, which kept the Shepherd and his wounded seraph sedated while their comrade was relatively unaffected. He was groggy from his fight, but the feeling didn’t last for very long. He held his head then tried to get Sorey’s attention by calling his name. The Shepherd didn’t wake up. He was alone to study his surroundings.

“What is this place?” he whispered. With the lack of illumination in the dungeon, he couldn’t see very much. When he shifted his tired body around, he heard the sounds of hollow objects knocking each other. The objects were long with grooves up and down them. “Bones…?”

“Mik…leo…” Sorey mumbled in his unconscious state.

“Mikleo again, huh? Poor kid is worried sick about him.”

Sergei and Sorey were in the dungeon long enough to feel the damp coldness seeping into their bodies. The former shivered as he understood that besides starvation and dehydration, anyone that was unlucky enough to be imprisoned down there had to deal with the cold as well. The air was stagnant, too, and heavy with fungal spores and the smell of decay. An indefinite amount of time passed. Sergei guessed it had been hours since he was beginning to feel the hunger pains radiate through his core. He approached Sorey to shake him awake, but something slapped his hand away.

“What the…? Could it be…? Are you Mikleo?”

Mikleo had come out to keep Sorey watered. He couldn’t move his wounded arm, but he didn’t need it. Water pooled in his hand and leaked through his fingers. He pulled it into his mouth then locked his lips with the Shepherd to transfer the drink into him; by doing this, he ensured that he swallowed it when he lifted his chin. Sergei watched, unsure whether to be touched by Mikleo’s concern or frightened that there was a third body with them.

“Mikleo, if you can hear me, do you mind if we talked?” Sergei kindly asked. If anything, the mysterious water seraph was going to save him from the insanity of isolation.

“This moron doesn’t understand he can’t hear me,” Mikleo grumbled. “It’s too dark to see any writing; how does he expect to communicate with me? Can he even see what I’m doing?”

“I forgot, humans like me can’t acknowledge seraphim. Do you mind if I just talk _to_ you?”

Mikleo wanted nothing to do with Sergei. It was his fault that Pendrago was overtaken. But…seraphim were incapable of evil as far as humans knew. He shuffled some bones to respond.

“I’m quite curious about your relationship with Sorey. It wasn’t until recently that he became worried about you—at least not since I’ve been around. He keeps begging to ‘Lailah’ not to hurt you. I’d like to think that there’s some misunderstanding. You’re taking care of Sorey from what I can see. Sorey was talking just a moment ago in his sleep. Did something happen to you? He’s a nice guy, but I’ve never heard him sound like that.”

Mikleo listened to Sergei as he rambled on about the same subject. Was Mikleo hurt or in trouble? He didn’t want to respond to him, but Sorey would have made him talk. Then he thought about their relationship. Sorey and Sergei weren’t as close as they were, and Sorey really had no interest in anyone else besides him. Sergei wasn’t a threat to him. He could afford to talk to him. He got up from Sorey’s side, walking carefully through the bones to notify the Rolance captain of his position. He went behind him and pressed sharply in the approximate area of where he had gotten hurt.

“So you’re injured,” Sergei grunted.

Mikleo shuffled some bones.

“That explains why Sorey is so concerned. That brings me to the other question: Rose seemed to be accusing you of what happened to him the night he fainted. I’m not here to judge you, but…were you the one that was tormenting him?” He waited for an answer. “I take your silence that you did but you’re scared I’m going to tell Rose. To be honest, I think she’s already figured it out. A wife usually always knows what’s wrong with her husband.”

Mikleo threw a number of skulls against the wall. He couldn’t kill Sergei; he knew he wasn’t wrong, but he had reminded him that Rose was acting as Sorey’s wife. He hated that. He hated how Rose was allowed to be with him in public while he was forced to hide his love even from their friends. He wanted to cut her out of the picture.

“I’m sorry. Could it be that you’re jealous of Rose? Are…are you really jealous of her? I didn’t mean to make you upset. Actually, I guess I can talk to you about this. I feel like Sorey and Rose would judge me, but not being able to see you makes me feel more comfortable.”

Mikle scoffed. How long was he going to prattle?

“Seeing Sorey together with Rose has been making me wonder if I should start looking for a partner in life. Turns out that there is someone that I’m interested in—and you’ll never believe who it is: Alisha Diphda of Hyland Kingdom!”

Mikleo’s heart stopped.

“We share the same ideals, and I must say she is beautiful like a flower. I’m hoping that once we can establish peace between Rolance and Hyland that I can maybe become a couple with her. Ah, I sound like a blushing bride myself. But I also don’t know if it would work. Hyland attacked Rolance without even a declaration of war. I want to respect Alisha’s wishes, so once I get out of here, I’m going to see her.”

The door to the dungeon screeched open. Chancellor Bartlow stood in the doorway with two soldiers. “And see her you shall,” he snickered.

Meanwhile Rose and Lailah were nearing Ladylake. A bad feeling was growing in Lailah’s stomach and she could sense that there was a marked increase in malevolence around the once pristine city. She urged Rose to go faster, and they hastily entered the city.

Confetti fluttered from above like the Festival of the Shepherd had started again. Unlike when Rose and Sorey had first entered Ladylake, there was no one on the streets. Lively music and indications of celebration echoed from the courtyard in front of the sanctuary. Rose hopped to the courtyard and took cover behind the corner of one of the buildings. Chancellor Bartlow was standing in the center of his people. Alisha’s body, pale and puffed, was behind him along with Sergei who was tied up and forced onto his knees.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Rose whispered.

 _“What happened to Princess Alisha?!”_ Lailah questioned.

Chancellor Bartlow had his hellion army behind him, and he was unaware that they had turned. He simply gestured to Alisha’s body, proclaiming, “See here, citizens of Ladylake! The Rolance army managed to sneak into our home and kill our beloved princess! We made the mistake of leaving her unprotected as she recovered from her illness, but we shall not make that mistake again! We have brought the Rolance stronghold to its knees, slaughtered the demons wearing human skin, and brought their sinful captain before you today! This day shall go down in history as the day we avenged our princess—our kingdom! Today we shall have Rolance’s strongest man’s head as a trophy, a reminder that such deceitful tactics will not go unpunished in the eyes of justice!” Chancellor Bartlow turned to Sergei. “Have you any last words, Rolance scum?”

“I’m being framed!” Sergei tried to tell them. “I haven’t been here since protecting the princess from the likes of your lying chancellor! Don’t listen to him! Princess Alisha and I had negotiated for peace talks! I would never kill her, and neither would any of my men! I beg of you, please listen to me!”

The citizens jeered and booed at Sergei’s testimony. They thought it was a stereotypical thing for a criminal to say. Why should they pay any mind to what an enemy officer should have to say? They continued even when Chancellor Bartlow muttered the order to carry out his execution. Rose and Lailah watched in horror from the corner of the building.

One of the soldiers stuck his sword into the space within his restrained arms and legs then pulled up his head. He came around so that his head was bent forward, and another soldier took his place to his left. With one swing, the soldier stuck his blade into Sergei’s neck and wiggled it free of the vertebrae and muscle in his neck. Sergei struggled desperately to get free, a primal fear of death engulfing his soul. There was another swing, and a third swing until there was only a little bit of bone left protecting his spinal cord. The fourth and final swing, shattered it. The silver metal sliced cleanly through the rest of his neck, and all the blood that flowed throughout the captain of Rolance’s army spilled out before Chancellor Bartlow’s feet. Chancellor Bartlow took the fresh head from his subordinate. Raising it high into the air for the citizens to gaze upon, he claimed a premature victory for Hyland.

Rose hurried behind the building. Her body, wrought with fear and disgust and sorrow, rejected Lailah and forced her out. Lailah hugged her, begging her to erase what she had seen from her mind.

“He didn’t kill Alisha, but…but these people are savages,” Rose squeaked. “They’re enjoying his death even after watching him be beheaded. But he didn’t kill her…!”

“Don’t think about it!” Lailah pleaded.

“The one…the only one who would give that bastard the opportunity to kill Alisha and frame Sergei…Mikleo did this!”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions!”

“That’s why he wants the Shepherd! Mikleo used Sorey to communicate with Bartlow! He schemed with him all of this! That’s why Sorey was in the palace that night! That’s why Bartlow took Sorey from us! They—Bartlow and Mikleo were working together!”

“Rose, stop it! You’re going to turn into a hellion if you focus on your hatred!”

“We have to stop Mikleo! We have to _kill_ him!”

Lailah slapped Rose as hard as she could, stunning her and hopefully snapping her back to reality. Begging her to keep her head, she wept into her shoulder. She couldn’t bear to lose another friend. Even still, Rose wanted to find Mikleo as soon as possible and avenge Alisha and Sergei.

But she wouldn’t have to.

Underneath the city, Mikleo was still suffering from his wound. It had healed such a miniscule amount that he feared it would take years staying inside Sorey for it to completely disappear, and even then a conspicuous scar would be there. The malevolence in the dungeon burned it like fire on his bare nerves; he didn’t understand why that particular malevolence felt so awful. Once again unable to withstand the pain, Mikleo went inside of Sorey where it worsened and felt like his arm had been torn completely off. It was like Sorey’s body was rejecting him.

Two Hyland knights returned to the dungeon—the same two that had carried out Sergei’s execution. They unchained Sorey and let him fall to the ground before hoisting him over their shoulders to the secret entrance to the Rountabel Palace’s kitchen. From there, they took him to the drawing room, which was where he would wake and find Sergei’s head sitting perfectly in front him like a mannequin head after rolling out of the sack in which it had been placed.

The sight of the head wrenched him out of his drunkenness with its drooping half-lidded eyes and the jaw hanging open. It was evident to Sorey that he had been through a tremendous amount of agony before he died.

“You won’t believe how hard it is to cut through a living person’s neck,” Chancellor Bartlow happily said. “It was all thanks to you, Dear Shepherd.”

“B-But…But I didn’t…” the words that weren’t stifled in his throat sounded.

Mikleo wanted to shield his eyes from the grotesque scene before him, but every time he came outside, he felt weaker and weaker. It was only through sheer willpower that he managed it. He cupped his face, stared intently into his emerald eyes, whispering to him, “Don’t look. Don’t look.”

Suddenly, a rope draped around Sorey’s neck in the shape of a parabola over Mikleo’s hands. With a swift pull, the butler began to strangle him. He wildly clawed at the ligature that had cut off his air flow as it remained taut over the back of the chair. He struggled for air, and Mikleo was stunned. Had Chancellor Bartlow been planning to kill him, too?

Mikleo, entranced by the display of raw fear in his lover’s eyes, transfixed the butler with his Mystic Arte Aqua Limit. The hellion wearing the ornate uniform dissipated into specks of malevolence; Sorey gripped his burning throat. While he recovered, Mikleo turned to Chancellor Bartlow.

“What demonic power is this?!” the frightful old man questioned.

“How dare you try to kill the one I love,” Mikleo snarled. It sounded almost draconic. “How _dare_ you do that to him!” He unleashed his Mystic Arte borne from the deep-seated hatred in his heart for the chancellor. “Rime Slaughter!”

A ring of inscriptions appeared around Chancellor Bartlow before Mikleo used his gushing waters to throw him into the air. In the blink of an eye, spears of ice formed and perforated him like a pin cushion. The spiked ball of ice fell to the floor with only the crimson blood flowing from tiny holes not filled with the solidified water.

“Sorey…Sorey!” Mikleo repeated to himself as he shook him awake. Sorey couldn’t speak at the moment, but the water seraph didn’t want him to. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I should have known…”

Sorey, sensing how distressed his best friend was, touched his face. It was wet not from the water from his attack but from tiny tears that were rolling down his cheeks. Mikleo pulled him up, offered him his shoulder to lean on, and guided him to the door. They had to find Rose and Lailah and leave Ladylake. Too much had happened for them to ever consider returning, and Mikleo felt the confusion in Sorey’s heart. What had happened to Alisha? How was he responsible for Sergei’s death? Why did Chancellor Bartlow attempt to kill him?

“Don’t worry about it,” Mikleo told him without realizing that these questions were all internal. “We just need to get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mikleo's actually feeling bad about all this now...Is there hope for him? Probs not. Also the full fanfiction has passed 100 pages with this chapter, and we're not quite halfway yet.


	19. Motherly Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After seeing how distraught Sorey has become witnessing his friends die, Mikleo seemingly begins to regret his decisions. Turning to Lailah for purification, the tainted water seraph and his company take reprieve in the abandoned town of Marlind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...hell week has evolved into something much worse thanks to this damn hurricane. Expect a lot of posting on this fanfiction and others.

Sorey and Mikleo reached the threshold when the former gripped his chest in agony. A sharp pain through his heart and strange fatigue overcame him which dragged him to the floor. He had been able to withstand enough malevolence that had the power to turn Lailah and Mikleo into dragons, but the sudden increase, presumably caused by Sergei’s public execution, was all it took to bring him to his knees. Mikleo tried to pull him along. He was immovable, lost in the despair and sin that had overrun the city.

“Mikleo…what is happening to the world?” Sorey dejectedly whispered.

“It’s okay, just forget about it for now!” Mikleo pleaded. He couldn’t wallow in sorrow yet, not yet. Too many people were still in the way of his happiness. Sorey couldn’t let the sadness get to him yet! “We just need to get out of this city. Sergei is dead, and Hyland is ready to take over Rolance. They even tried to kill you, the Shepherd! We have to get somewhere safe and away from these damned people!”

Another pang of pain hit him in the chest. The malevolence was unbearable before, but now it was absolutely debilitating. It circulated through him with all the anxieties, regrets, threats, and grievances of the world to the point that he would have taken his life if Mikleo wasn’t there. The water seraph again attempted in vain to use brute force to get him to keep going. Had he gone too far? No, Sergei’s death was unprecedented, and he had no direct affiliation with it. He had only wanted Alisha out of the way, but he cursed himself for not realizing the wicked ambition that had been long stewing in Chancellor Bartlow’s impure—almost septic—heart. But he eradicated the source of the festering hatred in Ladylake; wasn’t that worthy of merit?

The malevolence, however, wasn’t going to stop even with Chancellor Bartlow dead. It was a different situation with his corpse compared to Heldalf; Heldalf’s malevolence couldn’t be absorbed, but Mikleo had sponged the chancellor’s up after killing him in a blind rage. Now it was a tributary to the river in Sorey’s body, which was still somehow functioning even under all the pressure. The only thing he could gather from all this was that soon he would be ready. His well-being had degraded since Heldalf’s death; it was only a matter of time before Sorey would lose the remnants of hope and lose his mind to the senseless corruption around him.

Sorey was filled with doubt. “I can’t go on like this,” he mumbled to himself, each time the dysphoric feeling within him became more and more noticeable as he began to give into his own darkness. “I can’t go on.”

“But you have to! Don’t you want to see the ruins? Don’t you want to go home?” Mikleo fired at him. There had to be some stupid reason for Sorey to keep going long enough for him to enact his plan. “Let’s find Rose and Lailah. We can still escape!”

Mikleo brought Sorey to his feet, steadying him as best as he could. Sorey looked like he was close to death himself. His eyes were dull with exhaustion. Mikleo held up three fingers for him to count, but the hesitant Shepherd just held his head for a splitting headache was ravaging him. The water seraph held his hand then placed his other hand on his shoulder. He urged him to take one step at a time. They painstakingly walked into the courtyard before the sanctuary that had fallen into disrepair. Seeing the holy place damaged made them feel sick but not as much as the hellions that populated Ladylake.

“It’s the Shepherd!”

“He even has the guts to show his face!”

“He’s the one that let all this happen!”

“How stupid was he to trust the Rolance knights?”

“It’s the Shepherd’s fault that the princess is dead!”

“Everyone, get him!”

Mikleo threw large balls of water at them to slow them down. They kept coming, the women and children bypassing the water seraph with their hands ready to strangle the once benevolent Shepherd and the men prepared to carry out their own public execution for him. They wielded shovels and machetes and waved them around like a mob of barbarians.

Lailah, who had been holding Rose back, let her go once she realized that Sorey and Mikleo had arrived from wherever they had been taken. She armatized with her to restrain her attacks so that she was simply purifying people and not killing anyone, and when the mob around Sorey was taken care of, Mikleo pulled them along to the entrance of the city. There a few more guards had been posted for some unknown reason.

Mikleo armatized with Sorey, and together the Shepherd and Squire broke a path through the guards and left the city. They didn’t speak to each other until they had cleared Lakehaven Heights and moved to the other side of the bridge just before the path to Marlind. They took a break for their human companions’ sake.

De-armatized, Lailah and Mikleo sat next to Rose and Sorey respectively as they napped in a patch of grass next to the bridge. Both had a painful countenance.

“Mikleo, you’re injured,” Lailah suddenly said.

With so much that had gone in the near hour that they had spent trying to regroup, Mikleo had forgotten about his shoulder. It didn’t hurt him anymore, yet Lailah insisted on using Imbuement on him. She passed a healing hand over him, and for the first time in months, he was grateful that she was still around.

“Rose has figured out that you’re the reason that Alisha is dead,” the fire seraph continued. “When she wakes up, I’m not sure if I’ll have the ability to stop her if he attacks you.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Mikleo replied. “Did you know?”

“To be honest, I didn’t think you would go that far. But it doesn’t really matter now. I can only express pity for you.”

Mikleo turned to her, giant tears forming in his eyes. Even with the malevolence evident in everything about him, Lailah felt his tears were pure. He crawled to her pitifully, latching onto her arm with the tears streaming down his cheeks as he gazed at her in growing desperation. She wanted to beat him back, but a cry for help was a cry for help.

“Purify me, Lailah! I don’t want to kill anyone else!” Mikleo bawled. “Sorey…won’t forgive me if he finds out about Alisha! I don’t care what Rose does, but if Sorey rejects me…” His voice trailed off. Mikleo doubled over and loudly hiccupped from crying. A hidden smile curled on his lips.

Lailah agreed to purify him when they were in the safe boundaries of Marlind’s walls. Even if the village was abandoned now—its people either rotting or spirited away—it was better than being out in the open.

***

It had only been a couple weeks since they last visited the village of Marlind, and while it wasn’t faring well with the recurrence of the deadly plague that Sorey and Alisha had worked together to dispel the first time, the buildings were still in decent shape despite the malevolence running rampant through it. After Lailah had woken the Shepherd and Squire from their brief reprieve, they moved into the sanctuary in the northwestern part of the village. Unlike the first time, there weren’t any bodies, which thankfully provided them a place to sleep safely from the disease.

It was well into the night, and everyone was still exhausted from the chaos of the day. Lailah thought it would be better to rest first before trying to purify Mikleo after serious consideration for the amount of power she would need. She took a spot next to Rose, who was glaring nonstop at the water seraph as he and his victim huddled together for warmth. The fire seraph touched her hand to remind her that anything risky like taking on Mikleo was an unfavorable decision. The red-haired merchant-assassin had to tolerate it.

“Tomorrow I’m going to try to purify him,” Lailah whispered. It was so quiet that her voice was barely audible. “We’ll have to wait and see how it turns out before assessing a different way.”

“If we keep waiting, he’ll get away!” Rose replied in the same fashion albeit much angrier. She internally wished the Dezel was with her. He wouldn’t have restrained her; he might have actually aided her in putting down Mikleo. “We might as well attack him now while he’s asleep.”

“Rose, please listen to me. You’re giving into your anger, and if you continue like this, you won’t be any better than him.”

“Sorey is in danger.”

“Killing Mikleo won’t change that.”

Lailah kept a firm grasp on Rose through the night to ensure that she didn’t try to get up in the middle of the night to slit his throat. She didn’t doubt that the tainted water seraph would sense her maliciousness, and she knew very well that Rose was a slippery one. Playing at her heartstrings, however, and reminding her of the consequences of her actions would hurt Sorey even more.

The four of them woke at dawn. Sorey and Rose tried to force themselves to sleep, but with the world covered in low-lying storm clouds at any given time, their circadian rhythms were thrown off. The darkness theoretically was supposed to make them sleepier; instead they felt rested after only a few hours probably because they were so used to getting up and running out into the field at the drop of a hat. Lailah and Mikleo had been recharged after an hour or so.

“Hey, Sorey, let’s see if we can scavenge any food,” Rose suggested.

“The food here is probably rotted from the malevolence, and why don’t we all go together?” Sorey offered.

“Come on! Whatever happened to our human-a-human talks? You’ve been spending so much time with Mikleo that I almost forget you’re human, too.”

“Because I’m—”

Rose grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the sanctuary. If she couldn’t get rid of Mikleo, she could put distance between him and the Shepherd. She knew that the water seraph was cursing her, and frankly she didn’t care. Lailah told her that she had to abide by her warnings; what better way to do that than to invite Sorey out for a short walk around the dead village?

They strolled through silently as they mourned the death of the foliage and vegetation that had once did a brilliant job of coloring Marlind. The village was the only human village to use the plant life to its atmospheric advantage to the point that even the Great Tree near the sanctuary gave off an air of rustic beauty. The houses were going to start falling soon with no one to care for them. For a morning walk, it was bleak.

“Hmm, I’m sorry, but I have to ask,” Rose suddenly said. “How is your relationship with Mikleo? Are you two so close that you’re joined at the hip?” She wondered if he got the double entendre.

“We’ve been together ever since we were babies, so I would assume so,” Sorey innocently answered. “Even the way he is now, I can’t leave him.”

“I-I mean, well are you two talking a lot?” She was starting to feel embarrassed.

“I guess? Like I said, we grew up together.”

“So you two are close enough to let him do what he wants to you?”

Sorey caught on to where she was going. He wanted to forget what had happened in the bath and what had happened in Pendrago. Rose had already made it evident that she knew what Mikleo had been doing to him, and he had resigned to putting up with it if it meant that he wasn’t going to turn into a dragon. It was unhealthy in so many ways. But…he wasn’t going to leave him to drown.

“I understand your concern, but please stay out of it,” Sorey told her. For once, Sorey sounded irritated with her or he had let his depression come out. “Mikleo…may have some deep-seated desires, but regardless of how he is, we love each other and wouldn’t want the other to suffer alone.”

“Are you listening to yourself? If you keep letting Mikleo do as he pleases, you’re going to fall! If you fall, everyone is doomed; you’ll end up like Heldalf or worse!”

“If it takes my falling to the malevolence, then I’ll accept that fate. Right now, Mikleo needs me to stay grounded.”

Rose wasn’t sure if Sorey had managed to completely fool himself into hanging around Mikleo or if he and was denying that it was a problem. Such trespasses were detrimental to the human psyche just as malevolence was to seraphic psyche. The two of them remained silent for the rest of the walk, only briefly speaking when they had found something of interest.

In the sanctuary, Lailah prepared to purify Mikleo. It was going to be a painful process since she would have to burn the malevolence radiating from him off his skin, but Mikleo’s power over water had the potential to act as a buffer. The fire seraph laid her papers into a circle, the inscriptions on them parallel to adjacent ones. Once she verified that her friend was ready, she began her incantation. The papers sparked before roaring up into little infernos that tracked the malevolence in him. They coiled up around his arms and legs, coalescing on his chest. All the while Mikleo cried out in pain…or at least he acted like it hurt.

Symonne sat above them in the rafters of the sanctuary after tailing them for a day or so after Ladylake tore itself apart. She didn’t understand why her pawn had agreed to a purification when it wasn’t possible to purify him anymore—at least not by these means. She was going to ambush the fire seraph until she noticed that Mikleo was staring right at her. It was a bone-chilling look. He was trying to tell her that Lailah wasn’t his current target; this was all just a ruse. He wanted her to be away from Rose, and Rose took the bait by giving into her anger and concern for Sorey’s soul.

The communication between the two seraphim was almost telepathic. Symonne took the glare as a cue to instigate a fight with Rose. But she had a better idea. Why not make use of Lunarre again? Why not trick the Shepherd into killing his friend and make the malevolence reach its tipping point?

The fallen seraph teleported from the sanctuary as Lailah finished up the purification. Mikleo was incredibly weakened, even if he had done so just to distract her. There was no difference in the level of malevolence in him, and his clothes and demeanor were still the same as before the ritual. He was past the point of no return.

“It failed,” Lailah bluntly said.

Crocodile tears poured from Mikleo’s eyes, his body keeling over to once again hide the evil smile that delighted in her wasted effort. A powerful motion like that would drain her of her strength for the day, leaving Rose defenseless. All he had to do now was rile her up. Lailah’s Imbuement pulled him back to the present reality. The arte was weak due to her using most of her power up.

“I appreciate it, Lailah,” Mikleo sweetly told her. “I’m sorry it didn’t work, but get some rest. We’ll have to leave in the morning; we can’t stay in Marlind with the plague still about in it.”

Lailah agreed. After collecting her papers, she made her way to a pew to lie down, and Mikleo took this opportunity to slip outside. Another light rain had moved over the area. He looked for Symonne, who was hanging around by the gate.

“I put an illusory arte over the human girl,” she told him. “I figured that’s what you wanted when I was about to attack Lailah.”

“Hmph, you are _smart_ ,” Mikleo belittled. “Attacking Lailah would have gotten me killed, not that she would have offed me. Killing a seraph results in turning into a hellion, right?”

“It leads to falling in your case, but I assume you don’t want her falling with you.”

“So what’s your plan, then?”

“My dearest little experiment, you’ve become a fine monster,” Symonne cooed. “I’ve nothing better to do now that that fat old man is dead and his city is in ruins. I’ve decided to devote my time to helping you make the Shepherd fall, which evidently means turning all your remaining friends into Lunarre. Put an inerasable target over their heads.”

“I should have figured you’d be using that trick. Well, Sorey isn’t aware of it, so it’s fine.”

“How are you planning to go about this?”

“Baiting her, of course. She hasn’t realized it, but she’s in danger of becoming a hellion with all that anger and hatred. That amount of malevolence is just enough to make Sorey absorb before I can finally make my move.”

“And the fire seraph?”

“She’ll have no choice but to run. Sorey can’t side with her anymore.”

Mikleo lost his confident smirk. He didn’t really want to hurt Lailah. She had given him so many chances to live and not be booted out of Sorey that he found it would be cruel to use him to kill her. She was a weak girl now; the Shepherd was losing his virtuous power, and once he reached his peak, he hoped that Lailah will have gotten away by then. He had once viewed her as just another enemy, another obstacle in the way of the precious heart he desired, but she was too much like a mother now.

Symonne scoffed at the sentimentality. He was still clinging onto hope. With the illusory arte in effect, she made herself scarce. After a few minutes of solitude, Mikleo was met by Rose in fork where the Great Tree previously flourished. Her daggers were drawn.

Mikleo knew that she had talked with Sorey. It was only natural since she had been trying to find testimony after testimony of him abusing his friend. From the look of things, Sorey had told her something she didn’t want to hear, and she had come now to release her frustrations. Things couldn’t be more perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting real now. Oh man, is it getting real. Inspirational song for this chapter: "Lilium Saint Version" by GRIFFIN Chorus


	20. Things Fall Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The confrontation between Rose and Mikleo is finally here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little sad that I couldn't make the chapter longer, but there's only so much you can write on one particular topic. All The Week of Chaos is here. There will be no updates for the remainder of the week as I get through midterms.

“I can’t believe you’ve brainwashed Sorey into letting you do whatever you want to him,” Rose growled. She clenched her teeth, tightened her grip on her daggers, and glared at the water seraph whom was still recovering from going through the purification process. “He completely thinks that if he doesn’t fight back as much as he should, you won’t turn into a dragon.”

“Well, it’s true,” Mikleo chuckled. “If I keep bottling up the malevolence in frustration, then I would quickly turn into one of them. Sorey is doing the right thing.”

“What kind of friend are you to do something so vile, so deplorable?”

“Like you can talk. You’ve spent your whole life murdering people. You don’t have any right to start telling me that I do ‘vile’ things. Why, you even planned to kill Alisha.”

“You and I both know that it was a mistake. Mikleo, don’t you care what happens to Sorey?!”

Mikleo grew angry. She didn’t know what was good for Sorey; no one knew what was good for him other than the self-righteous water seraph. Likewise, he believed that she didn’t care what happened to Sorey either. Her conscience was merely speaking up now to compensate for all the lives she had taken. She claimed that her assassin’s guild lived by a code of honor, but she was a merchant as well. She was a person that knew how to fashion up glittering phrases with awe-inspiring perks and dazzling gimmicks. She could have been lying to them the entire time, and they had probably fallen into her trap long ago. Her conscience was _now_ speaking up because she was inherently evil. She was someone looking to steal Sorey away from him. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Rose, on the other hand, was done playing by Lailah’s rules. She wanted to believe that Mikleo was being controlled by the malevolence, but it had been twice that he had made an advance on Sorey that wasn’t welcomed. It had been twice that Sorey’s heart was shaken, his mind broken. It had been twice that he was put in danger of becoming tainted. Back before all this happened, she knew that they loved each other so much that at times she just smiled at how much they acted like an old couple. Where did the happiness go? Why had Mikleo given into the malevolence and thrown away the sweet, innocent, pure love he had for the gentle Shepherd? Whenever she looked at him now, she saw lust dripping from his lips and twitching in his fingers. Even though he hadn’t become a hellion, he certainly looked like one to her. And it hurt her to see that Symonne had the opportunity to overshadow the fun they used to have together with misplaced hatred that consequently was fostered in their group. The pure love had transformed into grotesque lust.

To Mikleo, it was a childish infatuation that had matured into blossoming relationship. That was just how he saw it. Nothing would get in the way of it. He wanted to bury himself into Sorey as much as he could and remind him that he was always going to have a partner in him.

It was only a matter of time before these two differing ideas would clash in the clearing before the rotting Great Tree, and unknown to Rose, the malevolence that was to be born from it would serve to buffer Mikleo’s strength in the long-run.  
The merchant-assassin dashed towards him, zigzagging all around the clearing hoping to confuse him and gain the upper hand. She was relentless in her assault. For every quick step around him there were two or three swipes from her daggers, the majority making contact against his porcelain-white skin. Mikleo’s clothes were slashed as large beads of red dotted the lighter scratches. The heavier wounds streamed blood.

He wasn’t necessarily trying to pull punches; as a seraph, his potential lie in his artes and not in his speed. Seraphim were more apt at standing still and casting their attack than running around and beating their enemies to a pulp. It was here that she had the advantage over him even though water attacks had the capability of poisoning. Rose had in her arsenal a myriad of lightning and poisoning hidden artes, all of which were excruciatingly debilitating. If he were to get stuck in any of her attacks and contract whatever status ailment they could inflict, he was done for.

But Mikleo wasn’t completely defenseless. He got lucky, catching Rose in a combo that awarded him enough time and power to prepare his Mystic Arte Crystal Rod. He would have liked to use Rime Slaughter, but his secondary Mystic Arte required that he accumulate more power in the attack and to keep her pinned down for a longer time. Both these conditions might have worked against someone like Edna or Lailah—someone who didn’t have the awesome dexterity she had. Unfortunately for him, water didn’t stop her. It didn’t even slow her down.

Rose stabbed him in his leg, rendering him immobile, before kicking him back. He had forgotten how strong she was on her own, and he had picked the wrong girl to fight alone. Well, that was to say if he had been completely alone in this.

“You’re going to pay for what you’ve done!” Rose snarled.

“Careful, girl, or you just might lose yourself to the malevolence,” Mikleo taunted. Talking allowed for the blood coloring his teeth to spatter over his lip. “Just what _do_ you plan on doing?”

Rose activated her Mystic Arte Jade Luminescence, pummeling him into the ground. She watched him cough up more of his life-giving blood as he wheezed. So many punches and kicks to his stomach reduced him to a trembling mess. He didn’t have much left in him. All she had to do was run her daggers through his chest.

“S-Sorey! Help! I’m being attacked!” Mikleo cried out. It was a marvelous performance. He desperately flailed around as much as he could while on the ground, stopping to catch the brunet’s eyes when he arrived. “Please, _help!_ ”

Sorey had returned from the depths of Marlind to find that Lunarre, apparently having risen from the dead, was preparing to eat Mikleo. Hellions couldn’t come back from the dead, and he had seen that the fox-man perished by Rose’s hand. So why was he back? He would question it later; right now, his dear friend was in trouble! The naïve Shepherd charged towards the resurrected foe with his sword drawn. He slashed at him, but he dodged it in the nick of time.

The human hellion took a step back. “What the hell are you doing?!” he screeched. “Why are you attacking me?!”

“I’ll fight anyone who tries to hurt Mikleo!” Sorey countered. He blindsided him, piercing him through the back first then coming around the front and stabbing him in the chest. Lunarre’s body immediately went limp, coughing and breathing shallowly before the light faded from his eyes. “How did you even come back…?”

“S-Sorey…!” Mikleo sighed, relieved that his lover had come to his rescue.

“Are you okay?” Sorey cradled him in his arms.

“Barely…”

The sound of fire sizzling came from behind Sorey, who looked back at where Lunarre had fallen. A wave of nausea came over him, his mouth running dry and over-salivating at the same time. His emerald eyes grew wide and fearful. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. A primal scream of sheer horror erupted from his trembling body. It resonated through the village, possibly even as far as the Rayfalke Spiritcrest. When one scream ended, another one began until his throat was raw.

“ _Rose! Oh my God, Rose! Rose, I’m so sorry!_ ” he bellowed and sobbed as he crawled to her bloodied lifeless body. Lailah rushed out of the sanctuary to find out what had happened to make Sorey so frantic. “ _Rose! Rose, please, wake up! I’m begging you!_ ”

The screams and pleas weren’t really what they were. It registered in his brain that Rose wasn’t going to rise up and brush off her clothes or fashionably spin her daggers like she usually did after battles. His heart ached, though, for her. He loved everyone, but those that were part of his team held a special place within him. Losing Edna hurt, but it didn’t hurt as much as losing Rose.

“S-Sorey…w-what happened?” Lailah asked, almost afraid to do so. She slowly turned to Mikleo, anxiety and apprehension and nausea among other things bubbling up inside her.

The tainted water seraph was smiling— _grinning_ at the mess in front of him like he had painted the picture of the millenium. He was stifling a low giggle in his throat apparently out of respect for Sorey, or perhaps he was trying to stay in character.

Lailah didn’t know what had happened, but she felt so frail. The malevolence was peaking in her Shepherd, and if she continued to stay connected to him, she was in extreme danger of losing herself to the madness. She had to preserve herself as long as she could for Zaveid’s sake.

“I’m sorry, Sorey,” she mumbled.

She wasn’t sure if the Shepherd heard her, but she wasted no time in severing their connection. At the same time, Mikleo’s violet eyes swiveled to her, mocking her. Had she realized what she had done? He wasn’t going to turn since he accepted the malevolence, but she was still fighting. She also no longer had the power to keep Sorey safe. Yet his eyes somehow implored her to leave the village if she wanted to live. They cast a look that signaled how much he wanted to kill her now that she was utterly alone in the world at that present moment. But he wasn’t going to touch her.

Lailah ran away from Marlind, understanding that her cowardice was putting Sorey’s life on the line. The more she thought about how this was going to affect him and what Mikleo was now allowed to do in her absence, the more she felt the malevolence in her. Instead she occupied herself with trying to sense Zaveid. If she could find him, then maybe—just maybe she would be able to survive a little longer.  
But what about Sorey? Wasn’t he suffering just as much?

With Lailah gone, Mikleo was free to help him through his sorrow. He pulled him away from Rose’s corpse, soothingly saying, “It’s okay…you didn’t know. She looked like Lunarre. That damn Symonne did this, not you.”

Sorey continued to cry into his chest, muffling cries denoting of his sin into him. It made him feel safer for now, but he knew he couldn’t outrun what he had done to her. Mikleo kissed him, and he didn’t mind. It was a comforting notion in light of the moment. He was still lucid through his confusion, however, which put a damper on Mikleo’s sprouting heat in the pit of his stomach. It would still just be a little longer.

“We should get going,” Mikleo said. He looked into Sorey’s dull eyes. He was broken but not completely. “Lailah’s gone, so I need to connect to you again.”

“How can you…?” Sorey softly murmured. “If Lailah is gone…how can you be connected to me…without a Prime Lord?”

Mikleo thought about it. He didn’t have the title, therefore he was powerless in that respect. Lailah served as a conduit of sorts for the Sub-Lords since they couldn’t directly form a pact with the Shepherd. He remembered when Dezel had broken his pact with her; if a Sub-Lord was allowed to break the pact, could he also bypass the system and connect directly? Did he have to go through a Prime Lord? It was something worth trying, but only when Sorey was compromised enough. Attempting to share their minds and body now while he was already so shaken proposed a threat to his sanity. At least that was his hypothesis.

“Do you think the Guardian Seraphim would know?”

“I don’t know…”

“Let’s go to Gododdin and ask Ekseo, then.”

“Mikleo…”

“Sitting here crying isn’t going to bring her back. She understands, Sorey. I’m sure she does.”

“How does anyone understand why another person kills them? I murdered her in cold-blood because I was foolish!”

“It was a trap! You fell into it, and there’s nothing you can do to fix it except move on!”

“How are you not bothered by this?!”

“I’ve gotten used to it.” Mikleo’s eyes went dark. “Watching Edna die, hearing about Alisha and seeing Sergei’s head—our friends are dying, Sorey, but we can’t dwell on it! Please, let’s hurry to Gododdin. If we don’t form a pact, I’ll turn.”

He knew that threatening that he would turn into a dragon was the best way to get him into action. The water seraph didn’t let the Shepherd give the former Squire a proper ceremony. They left the village together for Gododdin to find Ekseo…and to loot whatever supplies were still left in the little hole in the wall that it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is a loose allusion to the novel _Things Fall Apart_ as negotiations break down and the peacefulness that was the Shepherd's crew had fostered is thrown out the window after Symonne introduced to Mikleo the malevolence.


	21. Every Fire Needs a Breath of Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lailah meets up with Mayvin and Zaveid, but Mayvin disappears shortly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise--new chapter! It's a bit on the shorter side again, but...well just read it.

By the time Lailah had reached Lakehaven Heights, she was ready to collapse and fade away into the nothingness encroaching upon her. Severing the connection between her and Sorey took more of her energy than she was expecting, and with the malevolence creeping into her heart at the speed of a glacier moving through water, she worried that she wouldn’t have long left. But even in the pits of her sadness and anxiety, she had the power to slow it even more by keeping a positive outlook on things. A smile and a hopeful heart weren’t going to vanquish it now, but it made her feel better. She did know that finding Zaveid and working with him would give them a slight buffer against all the adversity that the malevolence brought.

“How am I going to find him?” she asked herself. Her senses were somewhat dulled by the wickedness in the air, but perhaps there was a trail of purity in it; however, if there was, it was covered up a long time ago. “Z-Zaveid!” she called out. “Zaveid, if you’re there, answer me!”

She didn’t know why she thought that she would meet up with him immediately after leaving Marlind and its surrounding area. As she walked, she did her best to stay at the very edge of the corrupted domain coming from Ladylake. It was going to expand as more and more as people went crazy and turned into hellions, and if anything, she knew she didn’t want to be caught in that maelstrom.

Lailah continued to call Zaveid’s name with the hope that he was in the area until her voice became hoarse. She rounded to the abandoned village of Kylfe, where the malevolence had forced its people to run for safety decades ago. A majority of the villagers had succumbed to disease and famine because of the malevolence; the few that escape were torn apart by the hellions in the area. She remembered hearing that two kids had almost made it back to Ladylake before wolf-type hellions lunged at their necks. Since then, the buildings had crumbled, and priests from Ladylake had gone to the village every so often to burn the demons away.

A little farther away was a shortcut to the Aroundight Forest, and farther than that was the entrance to Lefay, the Shrine of the Water Trial, and the Galahad Ruins. For sentimental reasons, she wanted to pay a visit to the ruins, but she knew that going underground without someone to back her up was a death wish if not a suicide mission.

“Zaveid, where are you?!” she called again. She had stopped in front of Lefay to focus on repressing her sadness and loneliness. “Zaveid…”

A burst of dark energy hit Lailah from behind. “You’re _really_ annoying, you know that?” Symonne sighed. She waltzed up to her, stood in front of her, and smirked. Relishing the sight of the majestic Prime Lord on her last legs without a Shepherd to lean on, she pulled her up by her ponytail. “My, how the mighty have fallen! What are you going to do now? You voluntarily abandoned your Shepherd _again_ , and with so much malevolence in your body, you could turn any second. Why don’t you just accept the malevolence and make things easier on yourself?”

Lailah winced in pain as Symonne jerked her around by her hair. Fighting the urge to yell for help, she simply told her assailant, “Because I believe that Sorey won’t fall. Mikleo might, but he won’t, and he’ll be there to save him.”

“So naïve.”

Symonne let her go before blasting her with another orb of dark energy. She smacked her around a bit, using her frailty to her advantage. Lailah, still not recovered from purifying Mikleo, tried to use her artes. Each time she formed a fire ball, it fizzled out into a few sparks. Without her power, she thought she might as well resign herself to die.

“Deceiving Pummel!” a voice called out.

A myriad of glowing chains exploded from the ground underneath the fallen seraph. They knocked her back, which gave Lailah a chance to put some distance between her and the enemy by hobbling away. She remembered that attack even after so long of not seeing it. Not only that, but she was surprised to see a flurry of pots and dishes being thrown at Symonne, whom had regained her stance and was trying to protect her head from the kitchenware. Who used kitchenware to fight?

“Lailah, are you alright?” an older voice asked her. Lailah spun around to find Zaveid and Mayvin prepared to fight off Symonne to the point that they would even kill her if pushed far enough.

Symonne was irked. She didn’t have the strength to fight against three people; she was hoping to have cornered the fire seraph so she could compromise her purifying abilities. She wanted the malevolence to spread endlessly, and Lailah was in the way of that. Trying to fight back now, though, posed a great threat to not only her plan but to her life. Zaveid was strong. He had been around for a few thousand years or more, so he had more than enough ammunition to put her down. Using an illusory arte, she retreated.

“Bitch,” Zaveid hissed at the space she had once occupied. “Lailah, are you okay?” he softly asked.

There was a marked difference in his demeanor. He wasn’t overly excited to see her, and he appeared to be exhausted. Lailah almost wished to hear one of his cockamamie pickup lines to make sure that he was still his normal self. The tattooed wind seraph pulled her up from the ground. When he felt the fabric of her jacket brush the skin of his neck as she hugged him tightly, he wasn’t sure what to do. He’d have liked to hug her back due to their current situation, but given all their other encounters, he wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch her. Hearing her cry broke his heart:

“Zaveid, I’m so glad I found you! Things have gotten worse since you left. Alisha, Sergei, Rose—everyone is dying. Mikleo is about to fall, and I can’t save him, and if I can’t save him, I can’t protect Sorey! I was forced to break my pact with them. I just—I don’t know what to do anymore!”

Mayvin interrupted the scene. “Rose?” he uttered. His stomach dropped. His precious Rose had died? How was that possible? She was one of the most skilled people in their guild! “What happened to Rose?!”

Zaveid had his share of questions, too. Why was everyone dying? How far had Mikleo gone? What about Sorey?

Lailah wanted to answer all of their questions, but the heaviness of the malevolence and the wounds from the brief battle with Symonne had drained her. She collapsed, a fever developing as a result of being attacked with pure malevolence.

“We should take her with us,” Mayvin said.

“No shit, we should!” Zaveid snapped.

“Listen. She’s severely weakened. Wherever we go—the next shrine for example—we have to keep her close. No matter how much malevolence there is, we can’t leave her alone.”

Letting out a dejected sigh, the wind seraph picked her up in his arms. Out of concern for her, he decided that it would be best to carry her in front instead of placing her on his back where she would be exposed to surprise attacks. The plan was to head to Aifread’s Hunting Grounds to speak with Guardian Pawan even though there was a strong possibility that some calamity had him. On the other hand, if his mind was still intact, he might have something to help Lailah. The journey to the next shrine was going to take at least a week now that they had to care for an incapacitated member of their group, and while they weren’t upset about it, they understood that this would set back everything before saving the world from further ruination.

Getting from Lefay to the Falke Hillside area was going to be difficult in itself. While Zaveid and Mayvin had been in the water shrine, they didn’t know of what had become of Ladylake. Lailah’s frantic description of the past events only told them so much about the current state of the Glenwood Continent. Approaching the bridge that led into the city, they felt the surges of malevolence radiating from it like a tower sending out radio waves. It was the focal point of the Hyland area.

After a day and a half of pushing through the expanding domain, they arrived at the clearing near Marlind. There was no significant change in the malevolence, and since Lailah didn’t have the chance to tell them that it was in Marlind that Rose had been killed, they had no idea that her corpse was still there decaying next to the Great Tree. With domains forming as malevolence collected, Mayvin alerted that Glaivend Basin would be worse than Ladylake. He advised that they take a shortcut through a small tunnel system called Lamorak Cave.

It was an easy one. The cave had already had a fair amount of malevolence, but it wasn’t anything like Ladylake or any other major cities. The malevolence stemmed from people who had gotten lost in it and died in fear of never being found. The hellions thus were weak enough for Mayvin to take care seeing as how his partner in the expedition back to the other side of the continent had his hands tied.

When they came out to the small creek in Volgran Forest that separated the cave mouth from the rest of the area, and soon crossing over it to get to Lastonbell that was straight ahead, Mayvin asked that they take a break in the City of Artisans. They checked into the inn there, and the old Storyteller of Time sat down at the bar. Zaveid, unable to get into the bedroom due to his invisibility to humans, was forced to sit with Lailah on his lap. Any other time he would have been elated, but he considered this to be taking advantage of her and felt more than just guilty about it. Mayvin let out a few phlegmy coughs then breathed loudly as if he had been punched in the stomach.

“Hey, you okay?” Zaveid asked.

“I’m not sure. I’m sure if I get some proper sleep, I’ll be fine,” he replied. Zaveid looked down at Lailah to make sure that she was doing relatively okay. He would have liked to cool her down a bit, but being a fire seraph, such a kindness had the potential of hurting her rather than helping her. Mayvin looked across the bar, an uneasiness settling in him.

The two of them went in for the night, and Zaveid notified Mayvin that he would be staying up to care for Lailah. It didn’t matter to the latter what he did so long as he didn’t tire himself more than he already was.

As the old man slept, the wind seraph watched over the Prime Lord. As much as he was a bit of a skirt chaser, he had to admire Lailah’s perseverance. She had dealt with so much since he left, and she still believed that everything would be okay. Zaveid believed as well; if he didn’t, he wasn’t any better than Symonne. Keeping faith and moving forward was the best thing to do.

***

The morning was dark and grey with another mega-storm passing over the continent. The heavy lightning and thunders woke Zaveid, who found that Lailah was standing at the window with a note in her hand. She turned to him. Her jade eyes were wrought with worry. She handed him the note without a word.

_Zaveid and Lailah,_

_When you wake up, you’ll notice that I’m not there. I should have told you sooner, but I guess now is as good a time as any. The truth is that being the Storyteller of Time, I’ve had to keep my oath to stay alive this long. Hearing that Rose is dead and that Sorey is on the path to destruction, I’ve unfortunately accumulated a large amount of malevolence. I’d rather not live to see myself become a hellion, so I am prepared to break my oath and suffer the consequences. Perhaps by writing down the truth, I can get a little more time to move out of your vicinity._

_The truth is that Sorey and Mikleo were born to be the next Shepherd and a Sub-Lord. After their home, Camlann, was destroyed, Sorey was rescued by a powerful seraph. Mikleo’s mother Muse brought back the corpse of her infant son to him, and she told the seraph that Mikleo was sacrificed to curse the Shepherd at the time. That Shepherd was Heldalf. They were raised in purity so that their light would defeat Heldalf, but now it seems all hope is lost._

_Zaveid, you must find the rest of the clues to restore Sorey’s purity. If he falls—_

Mayvin’s note ended abruptly. More than likely, the consequences of detailing about Sorey and Mikleo’s past took effect, and he left Lastonbell as quickly as he could.

Zaveid didn’t know what to make of it. To think that this was his friends’ destiny and to think that it was derailed so easily by a premature encounter with Heldalf.

“Lailah, I know you’re tired and hurt by recent events, but can I ask you to accompany me to the remaining two shrines?” he asked without hesitation.

“You don’t have to ask,” Lailah quickly told him. “I can’t do anything for Sorey now except to help you save him. You’re heading to Morgause now, correct?”

“Yeah. The third hint is these.”

“May I see the other two hints?”

Zaveid showed them to her, hoping that she would offer another idea, but with only half of the context, even Lailah wasn’t sure what to make of them yet. Mayvin evidently paid off the room for them before he fled the city, allowing them to leave immediately. It would take them about three days to get from Lastonbell to Aifread’s Hunting Grounds, which didn’t seem like a long time, but Lailah factored in the exhaustion and fatigue from the malevolence along with her still-recovering body. According to Zaveid, it took a much longer time to get to Lastonbell from Lefay; there was a high chance that it would take just as long as that trek did.

Either way, the hint wasn’t going to discover itself, and there was advice to be sought in seeing Pawan. Together, Lailah and Zaveid moved forward, forming something of a pact to lessen the effects of the malevolence between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to be happy today. For realsies, no more new chapters until the end of this week or Sunday...maybe. But definitely no new chapters. I think I got the gist of what Sorey and Mikleo's past was. No time to play the game, and I'm not ready to start over--I have to defeat Phoenix first.


	22. In the Eye of a Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm looms over Elysia, and the only thing that Mikleo can do for Sorey is give him the solace and confidence he needs to get through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee, I wonder when this chapter was started. Bit of a shorter chapter to start out back in the swing of things.

Sorey watched as dark clouds loomed over Elysia while holding a bowl of Mikleo’s ice cream in his lap. Mikleo sat next to him with a folded blanket, which he was trying to undo for them to wrap up in. A number of the seraphim in the village had sewn the blanket together as a gift for them when they were babies, and now that they had grown a bit, they could use it for a sense of security. Each section of the blanket reminded them of someone in their peaceful home.

Because their beloved Gramps was a lightning seraph with immeasurable power and had used his power several times to reprimand them by scaring them, Sorey always felt anxious when massive storms came through the continent. The first half of the storm had passed, and the eye was but a small respite in the middle of everything.

“Sorey, the ice cream’s melting!” Mikleo whined. “Eat it before it’s gone. I worked really hard to make it for you.”

“I’m sorry, but…I’m just really scared,” Sorey whimpered. “If Gramps got angry enough, he could make a storm like this. What if we made him mad?”

Mikleo stared at him, his violet eyes trying to find in his image whatever bad trait he had that would make the village chief angry. He couldn’t find any, meaning that Sorey was perfectly okay. He gently petted his head like he was a kitten.

“Gramps won’t be angry at you,” he softly said. “He loves you like I do, but I love you more than anyone in the village, Sorey!”

“You don’t have to get competitive about it,” Sorey giggled. He took a spoonful of the blue ice cream into his mouth then cooed at the sweet taste. “Mikleo, you’re getting so much better at making ice cream!” He held a spoonful up to the water seraph’s tiny mouth.

Mikleo blushed, averted his eyes, and mumbled something. The brunet child asked him what he had said, and he reluctantly repeated in a louder voice as if confessing to him, “I made the ice cream for you! I-I don’t need any; I kept tasting it to make sure it was good enough.” His little heart fluttered in his bosom; Sorey didn’t have to be so nice. They were best friends, and sometimes best friends just did nice things for each other! His face felt numb.

“But I want to share it with you,” Sorey moped. He watched him until he registered how red his face was. “Mikleo, are you sick?”

“Ha-ha-ha, I-I-I’m fine!”

The rain had finally started. It struck the stone houses like bullets on metal, and it cooled the air. Sorey shoveled done the ice cream and consequently got a brief but sharp headache. Mikleo panicked only to feel embarrassed that he was flustered by his friend’s carelessness. He pulled the blanket tighter around them to shield their bodies from the light gusts of cold wind. They were nearing the edge of the eye, and soon Sorey would feel the fear in his soul for the roaring thunder and the stunning lightning again. He held his hand through the sound of the rain.

“Sorey?” he murmured. “Don’t be scared, okay?”

Sorey turned to him. There were large tears rolling down his cheeks, but he couldn’t begin to fathom why he would begin to cry. He was a water seraph, so he had no problem with rain. He felt Gramps’s love for them, so he wasn’t scared of him. Was it the rolls of thunder that sounded in the far distance, or the dark towering clouds that shrouded everything in a depressing grey around the eye? If it was either, he wished he could command the sun to come from hiding to give him solace in return for what he gave him.

“Please, don’t be scared,” Mikleo said again, this time sounding much more tearful. “I want to protect you even though I’m small and weak.”

Now he was thoroughly confused. The storm frightened him, but compared to the sudden change in behavior from his brother-like friend, it was nothing but an every-day occurrence. Sorey pulled him in for a hug when he discovered that he was shaking ever so slightly. The rain was coming down harder, the lightning more frequent, and the thundering louder than before. The storm clouds were colored grey and black and purple, and the wind was trying to rip the blanket from their tiny bodies. Dirt and bits of grass were thrown about.

“Don’t let go of me!” Sorey commanded; however, Mikleo had fainted. In the blink of an eye, Sorey had matured to how old he was when he started his adventure, but the water seraph remained only five years old. He looked at his hands and his clothes. “What is going on?”

His torso curled around the child to protect him. He took the blanket from around them to swaddle the tiny seraph, and he held him like a baby despite it taking more effort to hold him than an actual infant.

The worst of the storm covered the seraphic village; in it there came what sounded like a garbled, distorted voice. It called out to the Shepherd, “So-rey, So-rey, give me that child. Give him to me.”

The brunet clung to him and kept him close to his chest to his rapidly beating heart. The voice at first sounded like Heldalf’s before a section of clouds funneled down a few feet in front of him. At first, he thought a dragon would emerge from it because it was so similar to the clouds that had swirled around Edna when she turned into one. But as the funnel disconnected from the sky, it diffused at the top to reveal someone that looked like Mikleo in figure but didn’t have the same hair color or eye color. The figure’s hair was black with violet ends, and its eyes were purplish-red. Only the top half of its body was visible; the lower half was still hidden by the clouds and muck. It stretched its hand out, as if demanding that he offer up the little seraph, but Sorey again refused by hugging him tightly.

“Give me that damn brat!” the being hissed. “He must be taken care of; he must be devoured! That insipid child is the only thing in my way! Deliver him at once, So-rey!” He didn’t quite sound like his seraph, either.

“What are you going to do to him? Why do you want to eat him?” Sorey battled. “What has Mikleo done that you need to get rid of him for?!”

“Insolent fool, don’t you see? That child is what will turn you into a hellion! He’s been fighting against me since I got here. He’s a thorn in my side, and I will kill him!”

“Over my dead body.”

The shadowy figure flinched at the statement. It didn’t want to kill Sorey, it seemed. In fact, the suggestion of ending his life made it fall back. He took a step forward with a weak light radiating from his footsteps. The light grew in intensity, shooting up at the sky and piercing through the dark clouds.

“G-Get back!” the figure implored, sounding more like Mikleo. “Sorey, I don’t want to hurt you! Just give me that child, and you won’t have to worry about feeling any more pain. That seraph is the menace. By latching onto him, you are dooming yourself to becoming a hellion. Forget the light, abandon that hopeless child, and embrace me—the one who will love you forever. Embrace the real Mikleo!” It reached out again, but this time it sought Sorey’s hand and heart. “Don’t listen to that wretched child; cast him aside.”

Sorey took another step; the figure took another step back. He wanted to vanquish it; it wanted to instill sweet corruption into him. The child woke in his arms after an earthquake brought his savior to his knees. All types of hellions were springing from the ground, and all of them wanted to eat Sorey and the little seraph.

“Sorey, you have to wake up,” Mikleo urged. “If you don’t, you’ll die.”

“What about you?”

“Please, don’t let him give into his desires. He only has a little bit of light left in him; don’t let it go out. You have to protect that light and the love he has for you. It’s time for you to go.”

***

Sorey woke up to find Mikleo looking down at him with worry and anxiety evident on his face. His own clothes were in disarray and soiled with dirt. The tree they were sleeping under blocked out the few stars that still twinkled above them.

“S-Sorey? Are you okay?” the tainted water seraph cautiously asked. “You were talking in your sleep. Were you having a nightmare about Rose?”

The Shepherd couldn’t tell if it had been a dream or if it was reality or an omen. He knew that seeing Mikleo in front of him now filled him with mixed feelings, but he still felt compelled out of love to hold him. Embracing him, regardless of how much he was tainted, reminded him that he was still there with him. It didn’t matter if he had given into the malevolence; he was tasked with helping him through it now that everyone else was gone. Whoever that child lookalike of Mikleo was, he was begging him to keep him safe, too.

Sorey snapped back to reality, and he was reminded of Rose’s absence by the question. A void in his heart, he simply said, “It was you.”

Mikleo’s breathing stopped for just a moment when he heard that. It sounded like he was accusing him. But on what grounds besides his behavior? He had no proof.

“M-Me?” the white-haired young man repeated, again cautiously.

“I was dreaming about you.”

“Oh, really? Do you remember anything in it?”

The Shepherd almost didn’t want to tell him for fear his precious water seraph would go ballistic hearing that he was in trouble in the dream. But why was that his immediate thought? Mikleo was, for the most part, still in control of himself. He hadn’t transformed into any sort of demon that wanted to eat children, much less seraphic children. Even the description was horrifying to recall what he looked like—not the child but the hellion that he had become. Reimagining what he looked like sent shivers down his spine and made him nauseous. He wasn’t going to tell him. He couldn’t possibly tell him without feeling sick. He didn’t want to lose the last person he could depend on to the darkness stewing inside him. The child didn’t want him to be scared, but what was there to be scared of? The Mikleo that was before him only had love, yet he still doubted it. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but feel that something was off. The dichotomy that loomed over his mind pulled him in two different directions. Just thinking about which part of himself to believe was exhausting. Mikleo continued to watch him, eagerly awaiting his answer to his burning question, but could he provide it without fainting from fatigue? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to tell him _yet_.

“Sorey, you’re being strangely quiet,” Mikleo pouted.

“I’m really tired…” Sorey almost choked out. When Mikleo gave him a disgruntled look and scooched back to lean up against the tree, he sought comfort in him. Wanting to know that he was truly still there with him, Sorey crawled over to him and rested his head in his lap. Bags had formed under his eyes. He wanted to sleep peacefully; maybe Mikleo’s characteristic coolness would give him that simple pleasure.

Mikleo had to concede to his body’s needs. He stroked his head gently like a mother would do for her child. Once again there was a part of him that truly loved Sorey in the purest sense that managed to peak through the malevolence, and once again, his existence was pulled into limbo as the part of him that wanted to ravish him tried to snuff it out.

As Sorey gently snored away, his icy fingertips meandered around his ear and cheek innocently. His hand cupped the bottom of his jaw, and his hand had pushed aside his collar to reveal the sensual tendons in his neck. He had a craving for them that made him absolutely ravenous.

“Control yourself…!” he chastised himself. “Sorey…isn’t just a plaything!”

He rocked back and forth, hitting his head with some force against the tree. He thought that by beating the evil into submission for the moment would grant him the reprieve he required to go back to sleep. Why did Sorey have to wake up like that and mess him up inside?

He held his love’s hand and tightly grasped it. He rubbed the back of his hand on his cheek. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. It was starting to settle in him—everyone that had died by his lust was cursing him. Their shadows had reached their peak height, and they were still laughing at him. Ever since the night he had dreamt that frantic dream of them in Sorey’s house, they had tormented him. They jeered and cackled—and the night behind the Knights’ Tower in Pendrago! They mocked him and enticed him to shamefully pleasure himself. He had crossed so many boundaries…what was the point in stopping now?

He dozed off as his next idea slowly unfolded in his mind and took form. It was a beautiful plan, and it was going to work no matter what. Laila and Zaveid weren’t going to stop him; he was going to make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed, I do really like dreams, but look at it as more than a dream. Also the Week of Chaos was pretty nice in the end. I need to study more, but...yeah. :D


	23. The Return to Gododdin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of all the chaos, Sorey's health is failing. It's up to Mikleo to take care of him, but the conflict within makes it difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little bit of a slow burn now since papers are being due and classes have been backed up due to unforeseen circumstances. October is a busy month.

Sorey panted. Every once in a while he gulped whatever little saliva had pooled in his mouth then continued his shallow, rapid breathing. His sunken eyes squeezed tight, and his heart raced. His head pounded and pounded as if in a vice grip. He wanted to say something—anything—to wake Mikleo, but each attempt at vocalization came out as a strained utterance that burned his throat. He was so weak that he couldn’t move any part of himself in the slightest. The world had gotten hot and humid with the malevolent rain, leaching the water in him out into his clothes. He had been sweating so heavily through the night that he was on the brink of death from dehydration.

“Mik…” he rasped. Speaking took every ounce of strength he had. “…ikle…” Wheezing, his chest heaved as his body switched into emergency procedures to cool down his body. “Mik-leo, please…please wake…” He wanted to cry in fear and frustration, but as dehydrated as he was, there were no tears. “Mikleo…!”

Mikleo’s cool skin did little to bring down the rising fever that had developed through the night, and eventually the uncomfortable heat coming from the Shepherd was enough to force him awake. The water seraph slowly came out of his dream until his eyes fell on the desperate look on Sorey’s face. He was horrified; it had only been a few hours!

“Sorey! Sorey, what’s wrong? You’ve got a fever! A-Are you sick?” he panicked.

Sorey opened his mouth, but again he couldn’t speak with the dryness causing every cell in his mouth and throat to stick together like adhesive. It didn’t take him, though, to realize that he was severely parched. Mikleo was hesitant, however, because he knew that his water was mixed with malevolence; he had already reluctantly given him some back in Ladylake. Sorey was at the perfect level of the evilness, and he didn’t want to push it any farther in case he were to turn into a hellion. The brunet pleaded for his help before his body reflexively turn to the other side. The nausea—a mixture of the malevolence and his plight—finally reached the tipping point, and he began retching. He hadn’t eaten in a few days, so naturally there was nothing to bring back up from his stomach. The headache worsened from his muscles in his core contracting all at once to expel whatever it could, even just bile. In his desperation, he wrapped his arms around his stomach and pressed as hard as he could so something would come out.

“S-Sorey, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!” Mikleo cried out. Sorey kept trying to vomit despite his pleas. When he had exhausted himself after being fruitless in his efforts, he flopped over and whined pitifully. He progressively got quieter and quieter, unconsciousness nearing. Mikleo was running out of time to help him. If Sorey were to pass out, there was a high chance that his body would completely collapse from his condition. “O-Okay! I’ll give you my water!”

Still, he was hesitant; the malevolence had the possibility of making things worse if it didn’t push the malevolence already in him, but if Sorey didn’t have something to drink, he was going to die. He crawled to his love’s side and hoisted him up close to his chest. Next, he conjured up a brimming pool in his hand, trying his best filter out the malevolence that was seeping into it from his hand. Touching his fingers to his chapped lips and tilting his hand up to allow the flow into him, Mikleo painstakingly tried to water him. The precious liquid, drained from the corners of Sorey’s mouth as he couldn’t consciously drink at this point. He had glazed look in his eyes, like he was transported to a far-off land. He was fading.

Mikleo let the water fall from his hand as he frantically forced his mouth open by squeezing his fingers between his jaws. With his other hand, he pulled in as much water as he could into his own mouth. He brushed his lips up against Sorey’s and pressed so that there would be minimum leaking. He let the water flow into his mouth; only when he was sure that it went down his throat did he release from him. It was warm mixed with his spit, but it was something. It wasn’t going to be enough, not with the Shepherd’s garb and his shirt and undershirt still on and keeping him warm. He gently placed him down on the ground. He pulled the Shepherd’s garb off of him, carefully undid his shirt, and pulled it off along with his undershirt.

“I’m sorry,” Mikleo whispered.

Sorey’s body was thinning from the lack of proper food. His muscles, developed from all their battles together with Edna and Lailah and Rose, lost their tonality, and if they continued without food, his deprived brain would initiate breaking down the proteins to strive to go on for another day or so.

There was no time to get him to a proper place to rest. He looked like a ragged doll that would rip at its seams if he even lightly tugged at him. He felt his head. The fever remained high, so his next idea was to surround him in chunks of ice. At least they would be free of malevolence. The chunks were placed in his armpits and between his legs. At least six chunks cradled his head. Once Sorey was almost encircle with ice, Mikleo again went through the watering procedure he had done before. Unfortunately, with Sorey out of commission, it was also up to him to gauge that amount of water to give him since a rebound in hydration had the potential of poisoning him, especially since he was starving.

It took a few hours of watering and waiting to bring Sorey back down to a manageable threshold. His breathing had slowed enough to make the worried water seraph feel a little more confident about his nursing abilities. Whenever he checked his pulse, it seemed to have steadied. His eyes were still sunken a bit, but he attributed it to the discomfort and fatigue of his condition. He periodically felt his head, face, and neck to check his temperature; once it had gotten low enough, he replaced his clothes one at a time. The ice had melted some, but it had done its job. He kept up his work. Before long, Sorey was sleeping normally albeit his stomach grumbling loudly from hunger.

“My dear Sorey,” Mikleo whimpered. “In pushing everyone away from you, I’ve hurt you. I can’t stop myself; but everything will be okay once we get to Gododdin. I’ll find food for you, and I’ll try and make medicine for you. Please, hold on a little longer for me.”

He had been so preoccupied with Sorey that he forgot that they had spent almost the whole day under that tree in the Meadows of Triumph. They had to at least make it to Biroclef Ridge by nightfall if they wanted to get to Gododdin soon enough to replenish on supplies. But how was he going to get Sorey there? Well, he had lost a little weight, so perhaps he wouldn’t be that heavy. He put him on his back, then took the first step towards the rocky cliffs. As he walked, he readjusted his hands to help balance out Sorey’s weight, occasionally addressing him by name in hopes that he would wake up perfectly fine. He knew that he was still in danger of overheating again; the humidity and overall heat over the Glenwood Continent would make him sweat heavily again now that he had some water back in him. It even tired Mikleo out, who kept pushing and pushing to get to their destination. His mind wandered to different topics—could he also suffer from heat stroke or starvation? Lailah had told him that seraphim didn’t have to eat to sustain themselves, but seeing Sorey like this…would that be enough to make him want to eat? Was it possible for him to become too tired?

“I’m such a damn idiot!” Mikleo suddenly cursed himself. “I could have made him ice cream…I could have made ice cream for him and helped him not to get hungry…” The thoughts of his carelessness were heavy on his heart, and as he trudged on under the weight of his love, he wept almost inaudibly. If he had just paid attention to Sorey’s needs instead of focusing on getting him to Gododdin, he wouldn’t be wasting away behind him.

 _“Regretting everything you’ve done?”_ Roses’s voice asked in the back of his mind. _“Hah, serves you right!”_

“Shut up!” Mikleo growled. It was like she was walking next to him. “I don’t regret anything. I don’t regret killing you and the others. You were all in the way.”

_“Oh, really? What’s he going to think when he finds out the truth? Is he going to think that it’s your fault he nearly died moments ago?”_

“Sorey loves me. He won’t get mad.”

_“How can you be so sure about that? Isn’t it your fault in the first place that his life is dwindling away? Isn’t it your fault that he has so much malevolence in him? What are you even planning to do with him as he is?”_

“I don’t have to tell you anything. After all, you’re rotting away dead in that pathetic village.”

 _“What about me? What about my body that was used to bring down not only Sorey but Sergei as well?”_ Alisha’s voice asked.

“It’s your fault you got killed.”

_“But you’re the one that had sown the seed. You told Chancellor Bartlow to kill me.”_

“Because you’re always in Sorey’s business!”

_“I trusted you, Wise Seraph. I trusted you, Fallen Seraph.”_

“I haven’t fallen yet. I want to fall with him.”

 _“What atrocity will you commit to reach that end?”_ Rose and Alisha asked together.

Sorey, who was sweating as predicted, roused. He mumbled something in his sleep, a sign that he was falling back into the dehydrated condition. They had only made it half way to the threshold of Biroclef Ridge, but Mikleo knew he had to give him water. The Shepherd calmed down after a drink, yet tears were flowing from his eyes. He opened the jade gemstones and offered a small smile. A token of appreciation for tending to him in his debilitated state, it was a ray of light in the darkness brought by things that were coming back to haunt Mikleo. The water seraph continued to carry him through Biroclef Ridge as he slept on his back again.

***

Mikleo and Sorey reached the entrance of Gododdin by dawn after a few stops to replenish the latter’s fluids several more times. The stench of decomposed bodies assaulted their senses, which forced Sorey to fight back the urge to regurgitate the water that he had so desperately wanted. He was still weak, so Mikleo thought it would be best to take him to the little school that the village chief had built for his people when he first arrived. It would serve as their asylum.

Because it was so tiny, there were only two rooms—a single classroom and an infirmary. The infirmary was usable save for the two or three dead rats that had wondered in sometime after the last villager died. He placed the Shepherd on the bed before setting about to tidy up the infirmary, and once that was done, he turned to Sorey to say, “I’m going out to find sugar, salt, and some other things. Will you be okay here?”

“Why can’t I go with you?” Sorey softly asked.

“You need to rest. I recommend taking off your clothes to help cool down.”

Sorey averted his gaze. He was much too tired to fight back against Mikleo if he was trying to get him into a position again, but given the other times he had been readily naked or feeling unwell, he wasn’t going to disrobe with him there.

“I’m not going to do anything to you. Leave your undergarments on; it’s important to air out your elbows and knees at least. I’ll be back soon.”

With that Mikleo left the building in search of the things he needed. Sorey lay on the bed uncertain whether or not to follow his directions. He trusted him in spite of a few _things_. He knew that Mikleo was trying to get him to feel better both physically and mentally, and he was grateful for that. In the end, he decided to undress down to his underwear.

“This town is another plague town,” he mumbled to himself as he lay on the bed. “Why would he want to come here?” Everything was in ruins, and if he didn’t feel so sluggish, he would have liked to go see a new ruins site instead of revisiting a town full of memories.

Meanwhile, Mikleo was rummaging through people’s houses for salt and sugar. Sorey had been drinking a lot of water, but his sweating was leaching out precious salt. If they didn’t fix that, they would have more problems besides extreme thirst. He needed the sugar to make ice cream, and a few times he cursed himself for not being able to make anything other than ice cream for him. Once he got those two items, he ventured out to the tunnel that led to Igraine’s entrance.

“A seal?” he muttered upon finding the door to the shrine.

He felt the remnants of Zaveid and Mayvin’s presence on it, gritting his teeth. What had Zaveid been doing in Gododdin? He wasn’t stupid, though. He conjectured that the only reason that there was a seal on the door was that something had happened within its confines, and he had a pretty good idea what that something was. Had the other seraphim connected to Sorey been there and not dead, he would have certainly liked to see Ekseo rip them apart, but since it was only Sorey, he was going to do everything he could to protect him.

What he had really been interested was still packed up against the walls of the tunnel—all of the fake elixirs that the village chief had made to raise money for the puny hole in the wall. Mikleo had tasted it once before, but nothing had happened. He had detected a hint of another herb he had researched years ago. It didn’t have any restorative qualities like the lavender or the verbena that they so often found on their journey. It had given him a slight high. The herb that was used in it, however, was compatible with red herbs to make a different type of potion. He took a few bottles before going around the village and the surrounding area for any red herbs. They never withered, but he wanted to make sure he had enough.

When he returned with all of the items he wanted, he was glad to see that Sorey had done what he asked even if he looked uncomfortable. He set the ingredients on the late nurse’s desk.

“What are all those for?” Sorey asked.

“In one of Gramps’s books, I read that to help with the lack of salt in your body when you drink a lot of water, you can drink water with salt and sugar mixed in,” Mikleo explained. “And it’s just common knowledge that you lose salt when you sweat.” He got to work preparing the water. “And…I’ve been a horrible friend. So I want to make you ice cream. That way you won’t feel super hungry.”

The kindness that Mikleo showed was refreshing; Sorey let down his guard just a little. Within a few seconds, the water seraph brought him the water with salt and sugar in a glass that he had scrubbed clean in case any of the bacteria from the surrounding decomposing matter had contaminated it. Sorey drank it with disdain, complaining that the amount of salt was too much for his liking. Mikleo then made him ice cream, and they sat together as the Shepherd ate it. Sorey sniffled and remembered his dream and their memories of when they were kids. He finished eating, lying back down but putting some distance between him and his caretaker. He was feeling sleepy again, this time from the happiness he had come to miss. While he dozed off, the tainted water seraph quietly worked on the herbs and the elixirs. He only used small samples until he found the perfect combination.

Back in the tunnel where he had found the bottles, the seal on the door was tampered with. It spontaneously burned away in a black flame, and Ekseo’s thundering footsteps rumbled behind the door. Destroying the door with a powerful kick, the dragon peered through with a red slit-pupil eye. He let out a roar after pushing through and blasting the rock away. The elixirs stored in the tunnel shattered under the falling boulders, and he came out into the village.

“What was that?” Sorey questioned, sitting straight up from the bed.

“How did he get out?” Mikleo murmured. He and Sorey went to the window of the infirmary, where they saw the dragon nearing the school. “Can he smell the malevolence? How does he know we’re here?!”

“Mikleo, what is going on?”

“We have to leave! The Guardian Seraph of Igraine—he’s turned into a dragon!”

Sorey hastily put on his clothes. Mikleo gathered his final potion, safely storing it in his shirt. Just before they touched the doorknob, Ekseo whipped away the room with his tail, crushing the two young men under the debris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When a pre-med writes fanfiction (except I'm going based of a list of symptoms)! I mean, considering that resources are becoming scarce and water being corrupted (coughMikleocough), I'd imagine that things like dehydration and hunger and all that might be a thing. Perhaps realistically Sorey wouldn't have lasted this long, but Mikleo did water him a bit a couple chapters back. I don't know, maybe I'm thinking too much into it. XD
> 
> BAD NEWS: The file holding the fanfiction got corrupted, so I lost a few of the last pages. I'm quite sad, and I feel less than motivated to work now that I've lost such a significant part of it; if I can remember what I wrote, then I might post a new chapter tonight or tomorrow.


	24. The Secret of Red Herbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Ekseo running rampant in Gododdin, Mikleo and Sorey have no choice but to flee. They take this chance to explore lands they've never visited, starting with the Trizolde Cave near Lohgrin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I managed to remember the gist of what I lost! The file is now backed up on several drives!

“Mikleo!”

There was an abnormal heat surrounding him.

“Mikleo, hang in there!”

His head hurt fiercely.

“Mikleo, I need your help!”

The center of his chest ached.

“Damn, he’s coming for more?”

Everything was so bright.

“So…rey…?” Mikleo barely said. He found himself in the Shepherd’s arms. His head was bleeding profusely from several injuries, and the aching in his chest came from where he had fallen on the elixir. The bottle hadn’t broken, thankfully, but he worried he might have fractured a couple ribs or even his breastbone. “Where are we…? Why is there…fire?”

“The dragon that came from Igraine—he’s burning down Gododdin. I think he’s trying to get to us, but we’re hiding under some of the rubble,” Sorey whispered. He held him close. “You’ve been protecting me and helping me since Rose died; I want to do that for you now.”

Mikleo’s head still hurt, but those words settled in his heart. He would have protested if he didn’t feel like he was drifting far away from everything. His vision and hearing was tunneling, but he tried to keep a grip on Sorey.

“No, don’t fight him,” he breathed. “You’ll get killed.”

“I can’t leave him to do as he pleases.”

“You can’t kill him…!”

He latched onto his shirt so he would at least find some difficulty in trying to confront the dragon; his weight, dead or alive, wasn’t enough to pin him down. He didn’t know how else to beg him to stay away from Ekseo. The fire-breathing dragon stepped closer to them, his body crowding out most of the few buildings that were still standing, until he was just above them. He peered down at them. Sorey and Mikleo were paralyzed with fear. They thought he was really going to eat them, and as he slowly opened his mouth either to grab them up or to roast them, Mikleo mustered up the power and courage to stare into it. He held his hand up to Ekseo.

“Aqua Serpent!” he cried out. 

A long snake of water rushed from his hand into the dragon’s maw. Temporarily stunned, Ekseo faltered. The two young men took this chance to get to safety outside the village. They scrambled to the entrance of the ruined village, but Mikleo dropped the bottle of elixir he had prepared. Sorey told him to leave it, yet he somehow wasn’t surprised that the water seraph would throw caution over the side of the ledge for one little bottle.

Ekseo almost galloped after him, which caused Sorey to tense up. His expertise was in close combat. If Mikleo was in danger, he would have to run up to fight the dragon off. Mikleo, on the other hand, was unusually nimble for someone who had just been crushed under rubble. As soon as he met back with Sorey at the entrance, he pulled him along by his wrist far away from Gododdin—as far as his legs and lungs would take him, as far as he could get from the memories of working with their friends that were trickling back to him. His heart wavered only slightly then calmed. Ekseo wouldn’t follow them outside of the domain he had created. Just like Eizen, he was irrefutably trapped for a millennium in the hellhole he had created.

***

Sorey followed Mikleo through the Meadows of Triumph to Pearloats Pasture like a dog being dragged by his leash. He wasn’t sure if the tainted seraph was rattled by the sight of a Guardian Seraph becoming a dragon or if there was still adrenaline coursing through his veins from retrieving the curious bottle. Either way, he had reacted differently to Ekseo compared to Eizen. Eizen didn’t frighten him. Eizen didn’t make him beg to run away. When Eizen fought against everyone and killed Edna, he didn’t bat an eye. Yet with Ekseo, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing Sorey to his fires. He was terrified of him.

Even more perplexing was the fact that he had gone back for that bottle. The elixir that was proven to be a fake held so much importance to him, but why? The Shepherd didn’t understand. Had Mikleo, something of an herb connoisseur, found the missing ingredient? Had he managed to make it useful? Perhaps that was the case. Maybe he had added an herb that would help the body regenerate from injuries quickly. He was tempted to ask him if he had conducted any test trials in the few hours before his makeshift laboratory was destroyed.

They kept running. Through Pearloats Pasture to the very edge just before the Great Camelot Bridge, they just kept running. It worried Sorey; he wasn’t in the best condition, but he knew that Mikleo had to be feeling worse. How long had it been since he had first steeped in the malevolence? Did he spend every waking hour or each day in perpetual pain? The dream of him as a child popped into his mind. The innocence in that tiny body—was it still there now? He wished to ask him even out of concern if everything was alright with him. He wanted to tell him that he could simply talk about how much it hurt to live walking on the fine line between trying to stay pure and trying to keep his head about the dark sea in his heart that cried and pleaded for him not to be afraid of the water seraph.

Even though he was scared, he knew he couldn’t abandon him. It greatly disheartened Sorey that he had lost all the friends he had made on his journey, but he wasn’t going to deny that he knew that Rose and Zaveid were against Mikleo. If only they could have understood what was troubling him and understood why he was acting as the main antagonist.

And what was Symmone getting out of this? Mikleo was her plaything, her creation, her science experiment. She had to have been getting stronger. After all, if the malevolence that accumulated in the world gave strength to Heldalf, the epitome of despair, would she accept all that unto her shoulders as a proxy? But if that were the case, she would have come out of hiding to kill them. There had to be another piece they were missing.

“Sorey?” Mikleo finally said. They had slowed to a leisurely walk, which Sorey didn’t notice since he was so wrapped up in his thoughts. “You’re really quiet. Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, I was just thinking about some stuff,” he said unsurely. “Um, thank you, Mikleo, for taking care of me. It’s been rough these past few days, hasn’t it?”

Why was it so hard to talk with him all of a sudden?

“Yeah, but as long as you’re okay, I don’t care.”

He just had to ask him.

“Mikleo, are you…are you okay?”

“Of course, I am.”

“I mean, with the malevolence.”

“The malevolence? I’d almost forgotten that I was tainted.”

How could he have thought that little of it? It used to be that even just a small amount from a single human was enough to make him double over as if he were going to have a heart attack.

“So you’re used to it? Doesn’t that scare you?”

“Not really…not anymore at least.”

In truth, Mikleo didn’t want to tell him the real problems of it. The dichotomy that wanted to pleasure him and that wanted to protect him from that side. It was eating away at him slowly like maggots on rotting flesh. Soon, he anticipated, that his former self will have decomposed so much that he won’t be the real Mikleo anymore; he’ll look like a wax corpse possessed by a demon that only looked like him.

“You know, it’s something that you just learn to deal with. Like…like how Edna learned to deal with her brother being a dragon.”

“I don’t think it should be something you learn to deal with.” Sorey pulled him back, spinning him around to look him straight in his scarlet-tinted amethyst eyes. “If you don’t feel good, please tell me. It’s only us now; we have to look out for each other just like always.”

Those emerald eyes that never saw the bad in anything or anyone, too oblivious to the sin in his beloved seraph, brimmed with tears. Sorey was surprised with himself that he had gotten so emotional. Mikleo cupped his cheek.

“W-Well!” he suddenly said. “We have nothing to do since the world is ending, so let’s explore the other side of this bridge!”

Whether or not Mikleo was simply trying to cheer him up, Sorey appreciated that he still had the enthusiasm to explore the world. He walked with him down the long bridge. The hellions on it didn’t pay them any mind; Sorey was as tainted as Mikleo and so there was no real target to go after. Not to mention having lost Lailah took away his purification power, so without the Silver Flame implicitly burning within him, he was essentially a normal human now that still had a high enough resonance with seraphim to be able to see them.

Crossing the Great Camelot Bridge brought them to the Zaphgott Moor. Its expansiveness cultivated a feeling of excitement and wonder in them, and for a moment, Sorey thought everything felt normal. They were there together basking in the glory of the world. It had been so long since they last found a new area, and Sorey pulled out the trusty Celestial Record which detailed the locations of the Plitzerback Wetland, a large oasis, Horsa, Lohgrin, and Trizolde Cave. While Sorey was busy rereading the passage about the moor itself, Mikleo thought about where to go first. The Trizolde Cave seemed interesting and _secluded_ enough.

“Let’s work our way from the right to the left of the map,” he sneakily suggested. “After all, the areas to the northeast are closer to us.”

“Really? I’d have thought we were right in the middle of the entire place,” Sorey innocently said.

“There might be something cool in the cave.”

“Okay, okay.”

The vastness of Zaphgott Moor easily took them a day and a half to cover to get to the mouth of Trizolde Cave. It was late into the night when they got there, too, because they also hadn’t realized that they ran well into the night before when they left Gododdin.

Even from the outside, they saw the brilliant blues and purples of the crystals in the cave, and it clicked in Sorey’s head that Mikleo probably wanted to gaze at them. He let the water seraph take the lead so he could memorize everything in the cave to document later. With nothing to do except explore, he fantasized about writing his own version of the Celestial Record and refining what was already written in the one he had. Every once in a while, his inner child came out as he stared at his beaming reflection in the crystals. He made faces and collected small samples to turn into necklaces for him and Mikleo.

“Sorey, keep up, would you?” Mikleo suddenly said with a little bit of an edge that the Shepherd had never heard come from him. “I heard there’s something really cool in the deepest part of the cave.”

“Really?” Sorey gasped. “Why are we walking so slow for, then?”

“Are you blind? There are still hellions around.”

Sorey ahead of him, calling back to him, “I may not be able to purify anymore, but I can still fight against hellions!”

He ran off, and Mikleo couldn’t be happier. Even when he heard the sounds of battle echoing down the paths, he wasn’t worried. He wanted Sorey to get hurt. He even wanted him to be so close to death that staying conscious was a chore because in his hand wasn’t just any elixir.

There was a little known secret about red herbs that only a select few of apothecaries had learned in their training days. In fact, many of them tabooed the use of red herbs because of this secret, and it was why Mikleo had always cautioned Sorey before eating them. By themselves, red herbs were harmless. They had a different flavor than regular green herbs, and they offered more energy than them. But they had to be eaten on an empty stomach because they released a certain chemical when eaten after a meal. This chemical, in short, stimulated a person’s libido. Red herbs effectively were ticking aphrodisiacal bombs. Ingesting them after a meal wasn’t the only way they could be used, though, as Mikleo had read in his spare time when learning about herbs himself. If red herbs were mixed into a special concoction, then it was easy to make a love potion that could be transported and used anywhere at anytime. They still retained their healing capabilities, but the excessive energy they promote in the very pit of the organism that consumed it was left to bolster the desire to pleasure or be pleasured for a few hours until the urge either abated or sublimated. And it worked in proportion as well—the more of the love potion that ended up being consumed, the longer the sex drive would remain elevated. He wasn’t going to need a seemingly indefinite amount of time, so he was prepared to split the potion between him and the target of his affection.

It wasn’t long before Sorey cried for his help. The interesting thing that lie in the deepest part of the cave was a massive hellion that had taken residence in the cave. It resembled a giant pill bug with a diamond-hard shell that the Shepherd’s sword would never be able to penetrate. Without his seraph, he couldn’t properly fight it. Several times the hellion had rolled over Sorey, crushing him into the rocky ground. When it rolled, it rolled fast. Sorey couldn’t keep up with it and ended up getting hit more times than he was used to in regular battles. Thus, he naturally called out to Mikleo for assistance only to watch the seraph nonchalantly freeze the hellion in place. It was odd that he had the power to stop it, yet Sorey was feeling weaker as if the malevolence was suddenly acting up in both him and his partner.

“Do you feel like there’s a giant weight on you?” Sorey coughed.

Mikleo didn’t answer. He put the bottle to the brunet’s mouth.

“That elixir doesn’t work, remember?”

“I added some essential herbs to it.”

“So it works now?”

Mikleo let out an exasperated sigh while pulling the bottle back. Sorey caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were cold and disconnected. He suddenly felt there was something very wrong with the present situation.

“It works, so just drink it,” Mikleo sternly said. He pressed the bottle to Sorey’s lips so that the edge of the hole pried his mouth open. Sorey turned his head away. “What are you doing? Don’t you want to feel better?”

“What’s wrong?” Sorey asked him gently.

“I’m trying to take care of you. Do what I say.”

“N-No!”

Mikleo clenched his teeth in frustration. If he didn’t get him to drink the elixir soon, he was going to get away!

“Open your damn mouth or I’ll force it open!”

Sorey tried his best to struggle. He wasn’t surprised that he was once again fighting against the darker desires in his friend’s heart, but he was much more violent this time. He put it together in his head that Mikleo had wanted him to go ahead and get severely hurt so he couldn’t fight back.

Mikleo, fed up with the farce that was trying to be kind and caring to him through all this, slapped him backhandedly across the face. With his prey stunned, he straddled his torso. He wasn’t very heavy, but an extra few pounds on his chest and stomach would tired him out a little faster. He pressed his hand down on his neck as well. He was prepared to render him unconscious to make him take the elixir if he had to.

Sorey’s vision was getting hazy with the slowly ensuing lack of the oxygen that was keeping his mind awake. His movements were less refined until finally Mikleo was able to let go of his neck and open his mouth. Tilting his head up so he wouldn’t choke on the elixir, he trickled it into his mouth, emptying it in a few minutes. He got off of him. All there was to do now was to wait for the red herbs to take effect.

“Mikleo…what did you really put in the elixir?” Sorey asked. His head felt fuzzy like it was in a box with overwhelming perfume. “Mikleo…!”

“Just a few red herbs. Don’t worry, though, because soon you’ll start to feel it, too. The culmination of my love for you—even I drank some of it. The next few hours might hurt a little bit, and I don’t like seeing you in pain, but we’ll be together.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see.”

Within a minute or so, Sorey did feel better as far as the body aches from the encounter with the hellion went. His head, however, become progressively foggier. The innocent human, devoid of the urge to fulfill the carnal desires that defined his kind from the seraphim, felt uncomfortable in his own body. His breathing was labored, his eyes dilated, and he started noticing the tiny beads of sweat that were the result of a strange heat building up inside of him. This wasn’t like the incident in the bathroom or the incident in the Knights’ Tower. Mikleo had wised up. He knew that by making Sorey feel whatever he felt when he assaulted him those two nightmarish times, Sorey would be less inclined to fight back…right? Not necessarily; however, he was beyond scared. His heart was racing not from the aphrodisiac in the elixir but from the realization that he was truthfully, undoubtedly, and unceremoniously left sprawled on the ground like a rag doll. That’s just what he was now—a pretty, little doll for Mikleo to play with until he tired himself.

The holy virginity that Sorey had been so lucky to have had was ready to be plucked from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you can see where this is going...I'm actually really sorry this time.


	25. Getting Help from a Thirsty Seraph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lailah and Zaveid are once again closer to finding a way to help Sorey and Mikleo, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeeeaaah, I needed a buffer after that last chapter. I mean, I don't know about you guys, but mental preparation is always a good thing. This chapter is a small attempt at some humor, and I tried to make Pawan as thirsty as he is in the game (maybe not "thirsty" but he is a bit of a creeper).

Lailah and Zaveid had been walking tirelessly for days to get to Aifread’s Hunting Grounds as quickly as possible. With Mayvin gone now, they were going to have to compensate for his memory by bouncing whatever the next clue they were hoping to obtain was between their brains. They didn’t want to spend too much time in Morgause considering what had happened in Igraine and Lefay. When Lailah had asked about those events, Zaveid had to decide which story would be less damaging to hear. In his eyes, becoming a dragon was as bad as dying, but in a way Ekseo was technically still alive. Upon hearing that a Guardian Seraph had succumbed to the fears and anxieties in his heart, Lailah worried about Mikleo more than before. He was on the same path, and Sorey was naïve enough to follow him.

“He hadn’t turned yet when I left, but what about now?” she mumbled to herself. She looked out at the dull sea next to the hunting grounds. Questions about her Shepherd and her Sub-Lord swirled in her mind.

“That kid better not do anything stupid,” Zaveid sighed. “Honestly, there’s nothing we can do right now besides getting these hints. Then we’ll meet up with Sorey and tell him what we found.”

“I wish I could think as simplistically as you.”

“Was that a compliment?”

Zaveid understood that things were going to be a lot harder, especially if Mikleo had done something to him. The way he was now, the water seraph had all the ability in the world to get under his Shepherd’s skin. After all, he had become the puppeteer when Edna died. It angered him to no end. Symonne was to blame for all of it, but he would have thought that Mikleo’s characteristic restraint might have worked against the malevolence. He had Siegfried; he could easily take Mikleo down at the cost of his life. He even rationalized that he had lived long enough to fail Edna and Eizen.

“Zaveid, don’t worry,” Lailah suddenly told him. She wrapped her arm around his to ground him from his self-sacrificing ultimatum. Again, Zaveid felt somewhat guilty for always trying to pick her up. “And don’t get used to this. I’m doing this as a friend!”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Zaveid cried. Both let out a chuckle.

“What’s important is surviving, so we have to rely on each other to stave off the malevolence. Look, we’re coming up to Morgause.”

The Shrine of the Earth Temple was fairing somewhat better than Igraine and Lefay had those couple weeks ago, which was remarkable considering Aifread’s Hunting Grounds served as Ground Zero for the outbreak of the malevolence. Perhaps the domain created by Heldalf was something of an implosion on itself, creating an eye in the malevolent storm and keeping the area safe for the time being.

When they entered Morgause, they noticed that there really wasn’t much malevolence inside it; in fact, most of it had been neutralized save for the few hellions that were still roaming about as part of the trial. There was still hope that Guardian Seraph Pawan was in decent condition to help.

“Do you think he’s in the arena?” Lailah asked.

“Probably, but I kind of want to wait a few seconds to see if he’ll come running to the sound of your voice. The guy’s worse than I am,” Zaveid snickered.

“That is true. Guardian Seraph Pawan, are you there?”

Pawan didn’t show up, forcing them to head deeper into the shrine. It made sense, though, that he wouldn’t show up in retrospect. He was most likely trying to abate any wickedness that intruded his domain. Like the other two trials, everything was for the most part reset. The one exception was the Minotaur hellion that was once Pawan’s Shepherd remained vanquished.

They reached the main arena area, where Guardian Earth Seraph was meditating. Lailah and Zaveid were somewhat disappointed but were relieved to see he was still okay. The latter approached him before flicking his head. Pawan came out of his trance, though, not entirely happy.

“What’s the big idea?! Can’t you see I’m focusing on keeping the malevolence out?!” he fumed then calmed himself. “O-Oh, Lady Lailah! And…this ragamuffin.”

“Say that again,” Zaveid threatened even though he had a bit of a toothy grin.

“I’d much rather talk to Lady Lailah and her beautiful self.”

“I’m just as good-looking as she is!”

“But Lady Lailah is much more…interesting…to look at. What brings you here, La-dy-Lai-lah?”

“Damn, could you be creepier?”

“Boys, we don’t have time for this,” Lailah scolded. Turning to Pawan, she said, “We need your help, Guardian Seraph Pawan. The current Shepherd has—”

“I already know,” Pawan said solemnly. “I had heard the battle with Heldalf and it ending in Mikleo’s malevolent injury. Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out what would happen to the world now and to find a way to help him.”

“So you can feel it, too? Something is fundamentally wrong now,” Zaveid added.

“Yes, when Heldalf was a Rolance general, he became corrupt. It’s been nagging at me, but I believe he may have bound with a powerful seraph, and there’s no seraph in the world that can withstand that much malevolence—not even Maotelus.”

“So then I was right that it involved him; I just got it wrong that he was a Shepherd.”

“We can’t be certain, but the possibility is very high.”

“Can you tell us more about Maotelus?” Lailah asked.

Pawan shook his head. “I know that he had been sealed away somewhere, but with Heldalf—the lock on his cage—gone, there’s a great possibility that he may be flying about. He may be trying to find the current Shepherd to bind with him, and since the current Shepherd killed Heldalf, their union would mean not just widespread death. This world would disappear.”

Lailah and Zaveid gulped. It wasn’t just Mikleo they had to worry about but Maotelus, and if Sorey tried to fight against him as a dragon, he would either be torn to shreds or unleash the worst that the malevolence had to offer.

“Now about the current Shepherd himself,” Pawan continued. “I don’t know what has happened since his skirmish with Heldalf, but I would venture by your presence here, he’s become corrupt.”

Lailah told him all that had happened from the initial injury to the number of schemes and tricks Mikleo had enacted to get Sorey alone. Each detail more horrifying that the last, Pawan began to think that there was a possibility that he could not be saved at this point. He hypothesized that the amount of hardship he had been put through by his water seraph as well as the residual malevolence oozing from Mikleo’s soul thanks to him absorbing it might have already pushed him over the edge. Naturally Zaveid and Lailah didn’t want to hear that nor believe that it was too late.

“There has to be some way to save him!” Lailah urged.

“We’ve been to Igraine and Lefay,” Zaveid told him. “We’ve found clues to a method that could save him!”

Guardian Seraph Pawan accepted that he wouldn’t be able to change their minds. He wanted to believe in their power, but the pessimism that was becoming the norm even for seraphim had settled into his heart when he had first seen the fateful battle between Sorey and Heldalf from the safety of the shrine. Nevertheless, he was never one to deny people what they wanted. From the arena, he guided to the entrance where there was a ledge that the Shepherds of the past simply leapt from to leave the shrine. After jumping from it, he patted the wall.

“Here’s the hint!” he chimed.

Zaveid and Lailah stared at it. “Is this a joke?” they asked.

“Nope, what better place to hide something than right in front of someone?” Again, his cheerful demeanor disappeared. “But are you absolutely sure this method will work?”

“It’s the only thing we’ve got to go on,” Zaveid replied.

Pawan went silent then dusted the wall of the ledge to uncover the next part of the hint. It was somewhat faded from centuries of minimal weathering, but the two seraphim could read it; the wind seraph dutifully wrote it down:

_However, light chases darkness,_  
_Just as darkness chases light._  
_Hallowed by his name,_  
_A savior from within his earthly home._

Things were getting clearer, but they still needed to last hint before they could really analyze the meaning behind the words. Pawan tapped his chin, thinking aloud:

“I wonder why Eumacia and the other Great Lords decided to put all these hints in these cryptic little epitaphs? What made them think about all this in the first place? Ooh, I wonder if they did this to try and save Heldalf! Except they wouldn’t be obligated to do so—or perhaps it was really supposed to be like a scavenger hunt!”

Lailah and Zaveid didn’t pay him any attention for their main concern was to prepare to leave for Guinevere, the Shrine of the Wind Trial. Even with Pawan continuing in his numerous hypotheses of why such clues were created, they weren’t sure if they should bid him a fond farewell. Suddenly the entire structure rumbled, and a crashing sound echoed from the arena. The Guardian Seraph at once forgot all he was thinking about and frantically ran to the source of the sound with the two seraphim tailing behind him.

When they arrived, a massive hole had been punched out of the ceiling, the debris breaking and cracking the platform beneath it. “My, my, what do we have here?” a disgustingly familiar voice asked them. 

Lailah and Zaveid cautiously stepped to the hole while Pawan fell to his knees in disbelief. Symonne was standing above them, but she wasn’t alone. Behind her was a white dragon surrounded by a nauseating aura; behind her was Maotelus.

“How did you find Maotelus?!” Lailah interrogated.

“When you’re the right-hand seraph of a completely corrupted human, things are pretty easy,” Symonne giggled. “And besides, the malevolence that your foolish hero unleashed has been making both of us stronger. I thought, ‘Why not team up with the most powerful seraph in the world’? He just happened to have turned into a dragon some ages ago.”

Zaveid pulled out Siegfried. He knew that he wasn’t strong enough to quell Maotelus, but he hoped he could at least put a dent in his power. Pawan begged him not to shoot him not because he wasn’t strong enough to defeat him but because it would only make the White Dragon _stronger_. It was true that Maotelus had turned into a dragon, and it was true that hatred would only buffer his strength. They were at a stalemate until Lailah realized that Symonne wasn’t attacking. She didn’t even exude an intention of slapping them around for entertainment.

“This confirms my suspicions,” Symonne murmured to herself. She yelled out at them, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing! Even if you accomplish your mission, you still have to find your Shepherd! And who knows if you’ll even be able to save him in time?”

Symonne hopped onto Maotelus’s leg as he lifted himself from atop the shrine with his gigantic wings. More rubble fell, and in his wake, there was a sea of malevolence that was beginning to pour in like molasses from a jar. The Lord of the Lords, Maotelus, was a force to reckon with, and learning that he was now in Symonne’s possession and being controlled by her, they feared the worst. With what they had seen, the malevolence in the White Dragon would rip Sorey’s soul apart in an instant before laying waste to their world.

Everything was starting to make sense!

“Zaveid, we must hurry to Guinevere! We have to find the last clue before Symonne can get to Sorey!” Lailah begged.

“Pawan, come with us!” Zaveid demanded.

Pawan refused. His duty was to protect the shrine that was built to worship his master Eumacia. He stepped forward to try lifting the slab of stone that had been punched from the ceiling back into it. There was so much malevolence in the shrine now that he couldn’t call on his powers. When he came to a sudden revelation that he was going to die, he turned back to Lailah and Zaveid.

“I know this isn’t the time, but Lailah, I’ll miss gazing upon your stunning beauty,” he resolutely said. “Please, do everything in your power to stop that wench from finding Sorey. Go to Guinevere and protect Guardian Seraph Wardell! He is the most vulnerable where he stands! You must find him immediately and get the hint. If you should run into Maotelus, take Wardell and run!”

The building cracked and settled. Pawan pushed Zaveid and Lailah out of the arena by banging the ground and using the subsequent seismic waves like a conveyor belt. After that, he destroyed the path; he didn’t want them to try and save him.

Lailah and Zaveid didn’t look back as they escaped the falling shrine until they were far enough away to be out of harm’s way. Lailah stifled her sobs, yet Zaveid was fine. Perhaps he had grown so used to seeing the Guardian Seraphim die one by one that he accepted it as fate but even he was unsure of why he wasn’t upset or angry.

He gave Lailah a moment to herself since it was her first time witnessing their sacrifices. He wanted to thank her, though, for being with him. He was sure that if he had gone alone, he would have lost himself by now.

“Let’s go,” Zaveid said after a while. “We have to get to Guinevere and save those kids. We can’t let Pawan down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tests are coming up again! I also realized that the big areas in the trials where you fight the bosses are not called arenas. They're altars, so when I post the next chapter, I'll go and correct that. :D The good news is that I'm replaying the game, so I'll be able to pick up more on the lore of everything that I missed! 
> 
> Happy Halloween and Happy Diwali!


	26. Aria for the Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikleo finally falls with Sorey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THERE IS A GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF RAPE IN THIS CHAPTER. I tried to place more emphasis on what this means rather than what is actually happening, and my smut proofer gave me his approval for the emphasis. (And it had to be on the day AFTER that shitstorm of an election that I upload THIS chapter...I'm so sorry.) 
> 
> Songs for inspiration: ARIA (Kalafina), Overcome the Hesitation (ToZ OST); Reference Materials: Toshishita Kareshi no Renai, Okane ga Nai

Hot breaths escaped his throat against his will. Everything with his body was foreign to him, especially since he had learned to ignore the pubescent desires that came with age as a growing human. He had never known what it truly meant to feel heat between his legs, much less an erection. He had never known what it felt like to have his heart race but his mind slowly drag along behind it, making time seem to slow down. He knew that Gramps and the other seraphim—Mikleo included—would never accept such behavior, even if it was characteristic of the depraved humans whence he came. He had been raised better than that, better than to go around satisfying every little wish his body craved.

Little chirps of displeasure popped from him once every few seconds as if the part of him that had been so tightly and neatly tucked away was begging for freedom. But was it really a part of him? All the tiny voices that seemed to be coming from outside of him—were they his? His limbs were heavy, and it took an exorbitant amount of will and strength to twitch them. Every bit of energy within him was been focused on satiating the urge to come at that moment, yet he didn’t want to commit such a self-deprecating act.

“M-Mikleo…what…what’s happening to me?” Sorey asked him between pants.

“You’re starting to feel it!” Mikleo happily answered. “Once you get comfortable with that feeling, then I’ll help you.”

That word again. Sorey’s eyes widened with the revelation that Mikleo wasn’t going to be helping with anything. He wanted to run away, but the paralysis that came with the heat made it impossible.

He couldn’t fathom any other reason why Mikleo had done this other than to finally molest him without the interruptions that had saved him last time. The water seraph, he concluded, was going to make him like it whether he wanted to or not. It was then, too, that he noticed that Mikleo was falling for the effects of the elixir. A small tent had formed, and he was sure that that was just the beginning.

“M-Mikleo…please…let me go…y-you don’t have to do this!” Sorey fearfully pleaded. “Everyone else is gone; it’s just the two of us now!”

Mikleo let out a throaty moan, his body contorting with pleasure at the sounds of his desperate voice. “It doesn’t matter if it’s just us or if everyone was here,” he said. “You were never one to be interested in making love, not even with me. All those times you rejected me—it hurt, Sorey. It really did! But that’s okay now because there’s nothing that can stop me.”

“I…I would have made love with you!” Sorey said.

It was a half-truth. Sorey loved Mikleo in every sense of the word, but he had gotten to be proficient in capping his desires so that their friends never knew about it. They were on a journey to save the world, not to romp around in each other’s beds. He was worried that Gramps would disapprove of their relationship if he had ventured to try it when they were younger.

“I love you, Mikleo, but there was never time for me to express it,” the terrified Shepherd continued.

“Quit lying to me!” Mikleo snapped. “If you loved me as much I love you, then why haven’t you made time for me?”

“Mikleo, please! If you let me go, then I can—”

“I’m not going to let you trick me.” Mikleo eyed Sorey’s crotch looking both troubled and hungry. Not pleased with how far his prey had come, he knelt down between his legs then slid his knee gently into him so that it was almost cradling Sorey. His face hovered over him. “I’ve come too far to let you get away.” His words were almost sorrowful. As if he didn’t want to let himself believe that Sorey would stay as long as he didn’t force him, he lowered his entire body onto him and kissed him tenderly.

Sorey at the moment allowed Mikleo that solace with some hope that maybe the water seraph would realize that he wanted the best for him. But the malevolence was overbearing on their souls; one relished it, and the other feared it. Mikleo’s gentle kiss become more passionate and driven by lust. He broke from his lips and went for his neck and jaw, places that weren’t so intimate. The darker side saw little point in feigning such childish feelings.

“M-Mikleo, stop,” Sorey ordered, but his water seraph didn’t. “S-Stop it, please.” He still wouldn’t.

Mikleo pulled back after a trail of saliva wound all around Sorey’s mouth and neck. He looked far from holy; his violet eyes shined scarlet. Sorey was silent for a few moments then uttered his name again. Reluctantly, Mikleo backhandedly slapped his face.

“Just stay quiet until I tell you that you can speak! When you say my name like that…!”

Why was he using violence? Sorey’s stomach dropped. The malevolence was completely engulfing his best friend, the one he loved to the ends of the world, and he couldn’t stop it!

The water seraph pulled off the Shepherd’s garb and haphazardly tossed aside into the dark openness of the cave. He regained his composure enough to slow down to toying with the buttons on Sorey’s shirt. He undid them one at a time while humming to himself some chaotic tune. When the buttons were unhooked and his shirt lay open, Mikleo bent down, rubbing his face on the somewhat still defined muscles in Sorey’s chest. He inhaled the sexy musk that his body had created as a response to the elixir—a scent reminiscent of sunflowers and smoked wood. He wanted more of it, so he pulled off his black undershirt along with his blue shirt and his gloves. Sorey’s tearful pleas begged him to stop but they only served to make him continue.

“Mikleo, what do I have to do to make you believe me!? I-If you want to do it with me, then let me go!”

Mikleo was done retaliating. He grinded into his stomach as went for his neck again; this time he was biting him just enough to elicit grunts of pain and make swelling beads of blood protrude from his skin. Sorey found the strength to push him off, which took his assailant by surprise. He used this small window to put distance, and he crawled to the entrance of the next tunnel.

“Aqua Serpent!” Mikleo growled. A burst of water hit Sorey in the back, and the wind was knocked out of him. “If you keep fighting, Sorey, you’re going to make me hurt you so bad that you’ll wish you were dead! Just stop resisting!” he bawled.

Sorey wheezed yet still tried to get away. Mikleo came up to him, flipping him over more roughly than the brunet had anticipated. He bit his collarbone harder than the previous bites, and this one brought a stream of blood with it as well as whines and tears. A warning.

Next the water seraph did away with the bulky belt. He seemed disgruntled by the buckles that attached his boots to his pants, but it didn’t matter. He could manage; all he had to do was free the divine weapon that lie between his prey’s legs.

“Mikleo, no!” Sorey cried out in horror. “Don’t go any farther! You’re going to fall!”

Mikleo still didn’t listen. He traced his muscles while licking his lips hungrily for whatever he had to offer. Wetting his hands with his tainted water, Mikleo took hold of Sorey’s cock and stroked it. He took it into his mouth, sucking on it as if it were one of his homemade popsicles. Sorey sustained a fearful whine before he got the courage to kick Mikleo aside. The adrenaline allowed him to run into the tunnel.

Sorey panted and ran while holding up his pants. His erection wasn’t subsiding; the feelings from the elixir were still in his system. How long would he have to put up with it? How long was he going to remain defenseless?

“Gramps…Gramps, please help me! Help us! I-I can’t do this anymore! I’m too scared!” he begged the air. “Please, someone, help me!”

“ _Freeze Lancer!_ ” Mikleo screamed behind him. A spear of ice whizzed through the air, slicing into Sorey’s leg. “Sorey, stop making me _hurt_ you!”

“You’ve been hurting me since you started this ridiculousness!” Sorey cried. He couldn’t move, couldn’t bear to stand back up and run, couldn’t make himself any less vulnerable. He sensed Mikleo behind him. “Please, stop this!”

“I…” Mikleo started. He bit his lip before grabbing Sorey by his hair. He pulled down both of their pants—first Sorey’s then his. Mikleo’s erection was going strong much to his wonderment. “I can’t stop now.”

With Sorey pinned where he was, Mikleo stretched his entrance methodically. Sorey let out squeaks and grunts of discomfort. The water seraph wished he could have spent more time preparing him and easing him into all that was happening, but how could he when Sorey just kept running away?

“W-What are you going to do?” Sorey dared to ask.

“What I’ve wanted to do since I first became tainted.”

Sorey went numb all over save for the foreign object was prodding into him. At first it was only as far as an inch in, but it quickly slid in far enough to jab at a mysterious spot deep within. He didn’t notice Mikleo let go of his hair. He didn’t know when Mikleo had clamped his nails into his skin. He didn’t notice when Mikleo started grunting behind him. He just knew that there was something that was boring into the very core of his being, and it was desperately searching for his soul. He shifted only slightly, but it was enough to send a tremendous amount of pain throughout his body. He didn’t know what was inside of him until something grabbing his front forced him back to the grim reality.

“Just…don’t…move…” Mikleo warned him.

Sorey was frozen in place from the fear and pain and disgust. His arms and legs were being taxed with each thrust into him.

“ _M-Mikleo! Stop! Stop! Please! It hurts! It hurts so much!_ ” the brunet screamed. His voice dissolved into horrific sobs and bloodcurdling screams, incoherent demands and bargains—anything that would make Mikleo stop what he was doing. “ _Why are you doing this?! Why are you hurting me like this?! I thought you loved me! Mikleo! Mikleo!”_

Mikleo didn’t want to hear this. He never wanted to hear his beloved Shepherd’s voice cry out in such a way. When Sorey’s arms gave out, he cushioned him with his arms, but his hands wandered to other places. He shoved his fingers in his mouth in an attempt to gag him while his other hand stroked and pumped him. It wasn’t enough to silence him for the remainder of the time.

He pulled out of him briefly, some sort of solace. Sorey panted, streams of tears came from his large emerald eyes that had dulled. He mumbled empty prayers to whoever was there to listen to them. Mikleo flipped him over then reinserted himself all while cursing himself quietly.

Wasn’t it supposed to feel good? So why was he in pain as well? The malevolence wouldn’t let him stop, even when he wanted to. He didn’t want to keep hurting him. He had always wanted the opposite save for killing his friends.

“We’re almost done, Sorey,” he dazedly told him. “Once we come together, we’ll be inseparable.”

Sorey bawled as Mikleo continued his onslaught until he ran out of energy to cry. His voice became little more than hiccups. He blanked Mikleo from his mind, returning to a time when they were young and oblivious to the cruel world that awaited them as young adults. He remembered eating ice cream with him, and the two would either watch birds or chase after goats or cause havoc for Gramps. They were delightful times.

Mikleo was approaching his climax, and he knew that Sorey would be as well despite him being in a somewhat catatonic state. He just had to make it through then he would be able to think clearly again. He voiced sounded strangulated as the malevolence gushed from him deep into his beloved Shepherd, wrenching the latter from his happiness and back to morbid performance on top of him. He helplessly wept as he came onto his stomach. Every muscle in him contracted either from the reaction to having an orgasm for the first time or from the recoil of disgust. Even after Mikleo had rode out his orgasm and extracted himself, he was trembling.

“Sorey, it’s okay! We’re done!” Mikleo hastily told him. He scooped him up into his arms, hugged him tightly, and stayed there with him for some time. “It’s okay, my love, it’s okay.”

“Hurts…” Sorey whispered. “It hurts…” He sounded exhausted and broken.

Mikleo’s breath hitched; he hoped sincerely that he hadn’t damaged him. There wasn’t anyone to help him, and he had no qualms about caring for him now that they had both reached their new status.

The fallen water seraph cradled the Shepherd until he fell asleep. He figured some sleep would help him, and when he woke up, he would try to fix anything that went wrong. He held him close to his chest and pet his head. He had done his love one of the worst things someone could ever do, but it was all so that they could be together forever.

He placed him on the ground to sleep off the pain of being penetrated so suddenly then left to gather up the clothes he had strewn about. He carefully dressed him, trying his best not to wake him up. He was starting to feel tired himself until he noticed that Sorey was partaking in a transformation similar to when he had first learned of the benefits of relieving himself of sexual tension.

His boots were black and red instead of white and gold, attached to now black pants with bronze belts. In fact, all the belts on his outfit were bronze as opposed to the dull brown that was typical of prickleboar leather. His blue shirt was blood-red, and the most remarkable transformation was in the Shepherd’s garb. It was once white with dark blue patterns and trimmings, but now it was black with gold details. Even the Shepherd’s glove was altered—red with the same brown-beaded bracelet and white-to-gold feathers. The other glove was black, but it seemed much more menacing than the rest of the new outfit.

Mikleo was somewhat jealous of the outfit, but now that they had fallen together, he’d have an eternity to bug him about it. He lay next to him, curling up in Sorey’s arms with a self-satisfied smile on his face. Once they woke up, they would go exploring like they wanted to in the beginning of their journey before saving the world had taken precedence.

***

“Why?” young Mikleo asked. “Why did you give in?”

Sorey was in pure darkness. He had been stripped of his holiness and was only allowed to exist in this strange realm as bare as the day as he was born. The seraphic child in front of him was on the verge of tears.

“Please, tell me, Sorey. Why did you stop fighting?”

Sorey couldn’t answer right away. It was something that a five-year-old child would never be able to understand. He reflected on what had happened to him. The darkness that had crept inside of him and taken his heart didn’t feel hostile but warm. He wasn’t sure why he had been so afraid of it.

“You can still fight. Don’t accept the malevolence!”

If Mikleo’s love was really so dangerous, he didn’t mind. He liked the sense of adventure and risk. Tendrils of the malevolence were wrapping around him. He wanted to follow his lover into the wickedness that scorched the earth and poisoned the rivers and lakes. It was liberating. He could do whatever he wanted with him now and there would be no consequence. They would be able to roll with each other or pin each other up against a wall— _anything_ —and feel no guilt for it.

“No, please, don’t believe any of this! His love isn’t like this! Don’t you remember what his love feels like?”

Sorey only remembered the times that Mikleo had tried so adamantly to express his feelings. He regretted not letting him show him the extent of his love because if he had, they would have been together much earlier.

“You need to become pure again. Before it’s too late!”

Mikleo’s tiny voice was being drowned out by the roaring white noise that filled Sorey’s head. The darkness was closing in on him. And just before he was completely swallowed up, the fallen Shepherd woke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM LEGITIMATELY SORRY. I almost cried while writing this, and I felt so horrible to have my smut proofer read it. It doesn't help that the US election was fucking awful and just before this...Really, guys I'm so sorry. (Also because of the election and two exams the next day, guess who's running on 2 hours of sleep!)


	27. The End of Chaos and the Beginning of Havoc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey awakens...but is he really the same?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it bad that I put so much thought into the previous chapter that I kind of didn't think about the after-effects? Well at least not during this chapter.

Fingers lightly grazed up Mikleo’s cheek, pulling him from the deep slumber he had succumbed to after falling. There was someone giggling; the voice sounded similar to Sorey’s but there was an uncharacteristic seductiveness to it. “Mikleo…” it said lowly. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Just how long are you going to keep me waiting?”

The water seraph finally opened his eyes to the dimness of the cave, and the silhouette that loomed over him slowly came into focus. Sorey was sitting next to him, his face over his. He was getting closer to him until he was so close that he felt his breath on his lips.

“Are you awake?” Sorey asked.

“Now I am,” Mikleo said just above a whisper.

He was amazed by the transformation. It had been so long since he had seen Sorey look genuinely comfortable with him, and it was refreshing. He touched his cheeks with a quiet joy that gradually swelled in his chest because his love didn’t pull away from him. The fallen Shepherd instead gripped his hand and held it to his face like it was something of a security blanket to him. Besides the obvious change in outfit, though, Mikleo did notice something else was different. His eyes were dull to an extent, or it was possibly that the lack of light in the cave had made them appear that way. Either way, he didn’t want to focus on the peculiarities, especially not when they were finally able to be together without having to hide from everyone. Mikleo, above all, was glad that he no longer had to go behind his back.

“What should we do now?” Sorey asked him.

“Well, we’ve fallen, so saving the world is out of the question,” Mikleo nonchalantly replied.

“Should we go exploring then? Or rather, continue exploring this part of the continent?”

“Anything you want to do as long as I get to be with you.”

Sorey chuckled. The two were going to have to find some sort of sustenance first, and thankfully Lohgrin wasn’t too far from Trizolde Cave. Mikleo offered to make ice cream for him when they reached the town. This was how it should have been from the start.

The Zaphgott Moor was hotter than usual, which urged them to find their destination as quickly as possible. If they could find a proper inn to rest in, then they would be safe from the unbearable heat for a while. Getting to Lohgrin only took half a day, but there were the occasional stops to examine the plant life and the hellions that had now become the regular wildlife in the area; at this point in the world, animals like coyotes and horses were nonexistent. But they were going to take whatever they got.

On the way, Sorey looked at the map in the Celestial Record and the plants that had been listed in the section about their current location. He was interested in finding a few flowers that bloomed at night, and he figured that Mikleo would probably like them since he was the herb expert.

“When nighttime comes, then we’ll go look for them,” Mikleo sighed. “But are you sure you want to come out at night? It gets pretty cold out here, you know.”

“You say that as if I’m coming out here alone.”

“I’m not exactly a person with a high body temperature.”

Sorey closed the book before waltzing up to him and kissing him sweetly. “You say that like it’s a problem…also I’m really hot, so hug me and cool me down.”

Mikleo reluctantly hugged him not because he didn’t want to but because it was for his coolness. He couldn’t help but laugh, though. He wanted things to stay like this where they were alone with each other and they could tease and gallivant around the world and enjoy each other’s company. There was always the added bonus of making love, but indulging too much in the intimacy of sex would burn them out far too quickly. Besides he wasn’t sure if he had it in him to go through with it again regardless of the context.

Sorey noticed that there was a pinkish tint on his lover’s cheeks. He worried that he was sick until he realized that he looked uncomfortable. He tried to pry it out of him only to be rejected.

When the fallen Shepherd and his seraph arrived at Lohgrin, they were taken aback with the current state of the town. The malevolence, like everywhere else, had ruined civilizations, but the few people that lived here were not sick. They were poor with their homes made of tents and boxes, yet something specifically in the town was still pure. Whatever it was, they were attracted to it like moths to lantern.

“Is that the Shepherd?”

“It is! Look at his garb!”

“Will we be finally saved?”

“Honorable Shepherd!”

The townspeople of Lohgrin gathered around him and Mikleo, bowing and offering what little food they had to him. Sorey wasn’t quite sure what to think even though his lover urged him to just take the food. The water seraph proceeded to go inside of Sorey so he wouldn’t have to worry about him. Sorey accepted the offerings and was then guided to the tent that served as the inn.

“Our apologies, Kind Shepherd, but Lohgrin has been suffering for years. I’m afraid this is the best we can do for you, but please know that we are prepared to answer your every beck and call,” the owner of the tent promised.

“It’s okay. A lot of places have had it rough,” Sorey told her.

“I know. Recently Pendrago was burnt to the ground, and Ladylake not too long ago was destroyed by a civil war after the chancellor was mysteriously murdered.”

“I-I see.”

There really wasn’t much to talk about when he knew some of what had happened. He thanked the woman for her hospitality then rested until nightfall. He was ready to go hunting for the flowers that bloomed at night, but again, something incredibly pure in the town was calling out to him.

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, and at first he wondered if it was Mikleo that had done something. Not able to wake the sleeping seraph within his soul, he left the tent. The purity was like a scent trail of lavender and lilacs. Down an alley and up some stairs, Sorey found a large door.

_“Do you feel that?”_ Mikleo asked suddenly.

“It feels…so warm,” Sorey replied. The warmth not only radiated from the door but from his pocket. The iris gems he had collected during his journey were shining, resonating with whatever lie beyond the fortress in front of them. “What’s going on?”

_“Perhaps we should investigate this?”_

After Mikleo came outside of his body, Sorey pushed open the door. Inside was a pristine garden that remained untouched by malevolence. Blue butterflies fluttered about the myriad of colorful flowers that lined the walls. In the center of the garden was the most massive monolith they had ever seen, and it too was resonating with the iris gems. In front of it were indentations for the gems.

Cautiously, they placed the gems into the indentations so that only two of them were still empty. The iris gems, or Earthen Historia to the older seraphim, held the events of the past, and the events within these gems were often very vague. Sorey and Mikleo and the others viewed them, but they were always left with more questions than answers, especially when it concerned the previous Shepherd and his relationship to Heldalf. They usually got the iris gems from strong hellions and from deep within ruins, but there were two gems left in the world. They weren’t about to start killing _every_ hellion they encountered to look for them, either.

“Do you think Gramps would know about this?” Mikleo suggested.

“About the iris gems? It’s a stretch—and a long walk—but we could go back and ask him. I’ve been hoping to visit him again; we have so much to tell him!” Sorey replied while taking up Mikleo’s delicate hands.

The water seraph suddenly looked grim. “How much are you planning to tell him?” he quietly asked.

“That we killed Heldalf!”

Again, he was grim. As long as the events that transpired after Heldalf’s defeat were kept hidden from their father-figure, then it was okay; however, just how well was all this going to work? Their beloved Gramps was going to see that they had fallen.

Turning on his heel, Sorey took one of Mikleo’s hands into both of his, and instead of going to look for the night-blooming flowers, they were going to head back to Elysia. The anxiety of what was waiting for them back home crept into the seraph’s heart. Gramps was very wise; would he figure out what he had done to Sorey?

“You’ve been acting kind of funny since we found that monolith,” the fallen Shepherd said when they had walked halfway through the moor. “Want to tell me?”

“It’s nothing.”

Sorey watched him suspiciously, circling around him like a shark. “Why don’t you just tell me?”

“Because it’s nothing.”

Sorey came around behind him and lifted him up with a bear hug. He shook him around vigorously enough to annoy him but not enough to cause any discomfort. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll just have to coax it out of you,” he purred as he placed him back on the ground. He playfully nipped at his ear. He ran his hands up his torso, the cloth of his shirt feeling smooth to his fingertips.

“Cut it out!” Mikleo growled.

Like it was a magic spell, Sorey immediately let him go and put some distance between them. He shrunk away from him even after Mikleo tried to apologize for sounding so harsh. He lightly touched his arm only to be swatted away. A horror-stricken expression painted Sorey’s face.

“L-Let’s just go,” the brunet almost whispered.

It was strange, and Mikleo only had a hunch of why he had gotten so prickly with him in that moment. What was stranger, though, was that his love had become ruthless in battle. Hellions didn’t attack anymore due to them being malevolent begins as well, but he noticed that Sorey would go out of his way to find them. He watched as he gutted them before they dissipated into darkness, and the fallen water seraph somewhat feared how he would be if he found another person. Hellions were one thing, but torturing a person…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah bit of a short chapter, but consider this just like...an intermission? A transition? A change in the mood?


	28. Hopeful Zephyr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zaveid and Lailah get the final hint and try to piece the clues together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been a long time, hasn't it? The plan was to get a chapter out before Thanksgiving, but I didn't get a chance to play Zestiria and Pokemon Sun kind of...took away the entire weekend...

Since coming from Morgause, the Shrine of the Earth Trial, Lailah and Zaveid were left feeling hopeless. They understood that Pawan had sacrificed himself to try and hold the shrine together, yet the fact that a seraph could die in such a human way was jarring to say the least. Lailah was still shaken since she had had no knowledge of the fates of Ekseo and Altul. Moreover, she was worried about Zaveid. Like Dezel, Zaveid had accumulate an abnormal amount of malevolence over the centuries with the only differences being in the type of the cursed essence and that he could temporarily detach from it using Siegfried. Feeling utterly helpless was different from hating things, and the sense of despair was by far more crippling. During the short trek to Guinevere, the Shrine of the Wind Trial, she had played with the idea of trying to talk to him about it, but the untypical silence between them proved to be a great barrier. She knew he wasn’t upset with her, but making friendly conversation after witnessing a death of a comrade had never been fun nor helpful. Lailah worried about herself, too, as counterintuitive as it was to her. She continuously kept good thoughts, but it was hard. Not only was death on her mind but the safety of Sorey and Mikleo tugged at her heart harder than she was expecting. They were like innocent children to her, and they had gotten mixed up in the cruelties of reality. Such was the way of life, she often dismissed. She was still bound by her oath as well. Any attempt to alleviate the stress by talking about it had the potential of sucking away her power. She had to wonder—was it worth it to keep the oath? If she were to run into Sorey and Mikleo, the latter of whom would stop at nothing now to kill her, would she be willing to break her oath to lessen her power to spare his life? It was true that she, above all else, did not want to kill them or even hurt them. She just wanted things to go back to normal, but for that to happen, Edna and Rose and Alisha and Sergei would have to magically spring from the dead. No prayer to the seraphim— those who were left—would bring that miracle.

“I’m sad about it, too,” Zaveid suddenly said. “About Pawan and about those kids.” He let out a sigh. “I wish you didn’t have to see that, but it might be for the better. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t particularly enjoy watching fellow seraphim die, but unless Wardell ends up kicking the bucket, things can’t get much worse, right?”

“But what about Maotelus? Symonne will actively look for Sorey now to make him bind with him,” Lailah replied. “I don’t want to think about the amount of pain Sorey would go through if that were to happen.”

“Then don’t think about it.”

Zaveid grabbed Lailah’s shoulders.

“If you keep thinking about the bad stuff that could happen, then you’ll just end up like the others. If you’re worried, we’ll just have to find Sorey as soon as we get the final hint. Then we can talk with him about what to do with Mikleo.”

Lailah bit her lip. “But what if they’ve already fallen?”

“Stop it with the ‘what-ifs’. We have to try, even if they’ve fallen.” He spun back around towards Guinevere. “The only thing we can do at this exact moment is to make it to Wardell before Symonne can get to him. If she kills him, we’re going to have a rough time.”

They walked on in silence, letting the exchange settle into their heads. Lailah tried to imagine it from Zaveid’s point of view—he had seen a lot more than she had, and he was still pushing himself to save them. He hadn’t lost hope; or he has lost hope but saw little reason to stop with how far he had come. The wind seraph, too, rethought and reflected on Lailah’s feelings. He shouldn’t have gotten so snappy with her, and he apologized to her despite Lailah assuring him that she took no offense.

Arriving at Westronbolt Gorge took less time than they had expected, which worked to their advantage. The quicker they got to their destinations, the less time Symonne would have to plan an attack…ideally. Assuming that they would beat her to Guinevere was as bad as getting cocky in any fight against her. But simply reaching the Shrine of the Wind Trial wasn’t enough; the path to the very top of this ancient yet ornate tower was impassable. The trial, they learned after venturing inside, hadn’t been reset yet. The portals within the tower had all been deactivated.

“How opposed are you to me carrying you up there?” Zaveid asked Lailah.

“W-What do you mean?” she counter-questioned.

“The trial hasn’t been reset, which means that we really have no other way to get to the top and see Wardell than to scale the side of the shrine.”

“This isn’t some harebrained scheme to try anything, is it?”

“Promise it’s not.”

Even with his word, Lailah wasn’t sure if she was ready to trust him, but looking back on the times she had been incapacitated, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Zaveid scooped her up then leapt up to the side of the shrine. He used his wind to push him up from behind and to make sure that he didn’t lose contact with the wall. The experience was an especially frazzling one for Lailah, who had never been parallel to a wall for hundreds of feet in the air. Zaveid’s strong grip on her did little to comfort her. Periodically she looked down behind them only to get dizzy from the sheer height.

Gravity was still a thing, however, and it put some stress on their bodies. About three-quarters of the way up, Zaveid himself was winded. If he lost concentration, they would fall to their deaths.

“I-Imbuement!” Lailah timidly called out.

Zaveid felt somewhat better but chastised her about using her energy. “We’ve got to save our strength for Symonne if we run into her.”

“If we fall and die, it won’t really matter, will it?”

“When did you get so sassy?”

“I just want to get onto solid ground!”

Thankfully Lailah soon got her wish as she scrambled out of Zaveid’s arms and lay on the ground. The total height was around two hundred feet on top of however tall the ridges in the gorge were. The wind seraph simply watched her with a smirk.

“The Great Lady of the Lake can’t handle a little height!” he finally guffawed.

She flicked a flame at him. “I’m not a wind seraph!” she cried.

“Okay, okay. Come on, let’s go talk to Wardell.”

Zaveid kept a secure grip on Lailah’s wrist so she wouldn’t faint from the height as they skirted around the side of the shrine to the altar. The surface was in the shape of a cross where each branch was a ledge. Lailah remembered that when they first came to Guinevere, someone had jumped off one of the lower ledges in hopes of sacrificing himself to the seraphim. Mikleo was disgusted with the idea of human sacrifices and thought it was foolish to think that seraphim were appeased with corpses and bloodshed. She had to wonder what he would think now.

The last of the Guardian Seraphim looked over the land from one of the ledges. Only half of his face was left unhidden by the golden mask he wore. He was completely still in prayer.

“I see you’ve finally come,” Wardell said. “Is it just as the wind tells me? Has the Shepherd Sorey truly lost himself to the malevolence?”

Zaveid and Lailah knelt before him; Wardell’s cold amber eyes stayed on them. They couldn’t answer his question if Sorey had fallen. They gave him a condensed version of the events including all what had happened to his fellow Guardians. Wardell wasn’t surprised. He had been reading the wind ever since he noticed that the levels of malevolence had skyrocketed in the surrounding area. He knew that they were there for the next hint long before they had told him, and he told them that it was hidden deep in the trial.

“We must hurry. That fallen seraph is on her way here. I want to give you the hint before I meet my end.”

“You’re resolved to die?” Lailah asked.

“No. I will fight against her, but in the event of my death, I want you two to be prepared to help Sorey.”

“Guardian Pawan implored us to ask you to come with us,” Zaveid said.

“I’m afraid I cannot. I will not abandon my post and leave my master to be controlled by the evil laying waste to the land. I will fight against the fallen seraph to my very last breath.”

“I mean no disrespect, Guardian Wardell, but the point of all this is to survive. If you throw away your life—”

Wardell held up his hand. “I have made up my mind. Allow me to show you to the hint. Once you get it, please leave. It’s more important that you live.”

Lailah touched Zaveid’s arm. There was no way they were going to change his mind. They obeyed him, following him into the lower levels of the tower of the shrine to a broken crystal windmill that they had found during the trial.

Wardell used his power to reassemble the windmill. Holding it together with various currents going in all sorts of directions, he instructed Lailah to hold a flame behind the crystal. When she did, tiny writing appeared. Zaveid wrote it down:

_A single speck to illuminate the darkness;_  
_A quiet breeze that resonates with the soul._  
_The sprout shall burst from the barren land,_  
_And life will begin anew once again._

Wardell let the windmill shatter once again. For once, they saw a smile on his face since coming to the shrine. Once Zaveid and Lailah read all the hints together simply to get an idea before analyzing it, he told them to leave. Symonne had come.

“We’re going with you!” Lailah told him.

“Don’t be foolish! Maotelus is with her. She will kill you!” Wardell retaliated.

“Let her try,” Zaveid said.

Instead of trying to deter them with words, Wardell ran towards to the exit back to the altar. He hoped that by getting a head start, they would become discouraged and leave. They just follow him.

***

Maotelus circled around the altar with Symonne clinging to his leg as they scanned for Wardell. She expected only Wardell to be there, and he was going to be easy to destroy—if not with the Great Lord, then definitely with sheer malevolence.

The Guardian Seraph of Guivenere finally showed. Without so much of a greeting, he snapped at the White Dragon with a surge of wind currents before shooting orbs of compressed air at him. It hurt him to fight against his comrade from so long ago.

“You dare fight against your former master?” Symonne growled. “Then you must be greatly mistaken if you think you can kill him!”

“My aim is not kill him; I will do whatever I can to make sure he can’t help you damage this world anymore!” Wardell yelled back.

Zaveid and Lailah joined the fray. The burly wind seraph wasn’t as strong as the guardian, but he knew their attacks would synergize to knock Maotelus far away from Guinevere. Symonne jumped from his leg so she could distract them. Lailah engaged her, trying to burn away every wisp of malevolence that she conjured up.

“If you just let us search this place for Sorey and Mikleo, then we’ll leave,” Symonne lied. “After all, we just want them.”

“Even if you were just looking for them, we’d never hand them over to you,” Lailah retorted.

“I was going to spare you the suffering I had in store for you, but you’re really asking for it!”

As Symonne tried to whip Lailah with her crop, Wardell trapped Maotelus with his wind. Zaveid wrapped him with his pendulum chains then used every arte he had. Unfortunately they weren’t strong enough; he had grown too powerful to be harmed by the meager attacks of a regular seraph—even one that was a few millennia old.

“Zaveid, help Lailah! I’ve got Maotelus!” Wardell ordered.

Zaveid released the dragon and turned his chains on Symonne. Lailah aimed her fire along the chains, and soon the black-haired seraph was engulfed in them. She let out cries of pain that dissolved into giggles and even hysterical laughter. She whipped them away, her red eyes hungry for blood.

“If I weren’t already too busy, I would kill you here and now,” Symonne snarled. “Maotelus and I both have other matters to attend to, so if you’ll excuse us.”

“Running from a fight? That sounds just like Heldalf’s little bitch,” Zaveid antagonized. “Why _don’t_ you finish us off? Or could it be that you can’t?”

“Both of them will be fresh meat for the Great Lord!”

“Yeah, right.” Zaveid sent a few blades of wind that cut into her pale white skin. The blood that seeped from her wounds was vibrantly red.

“Oh? All that talk and you’re not going to take off my head?”

As much as he wanted to, he knew that even killing a fallen seraph that deserved to die would bring him down to her level or turn him into a dragon. All he said, “That was a warning. Stay away from Sorey and Mikleo.”

Symonne backed up towards Maotelus, who landed upon her command. Gripping the cuts, she snickered, “I’ll stay away as the Great Lord feasts on their bodies and rips their skin from their bones.”

After Symonne fled from Guinevere, the three seraphim regrouped. Fortunately no one was particularly battered, and they chalked it up as a victory. Zaveid was implicitly glad to see that one Guardian Seraph made it for the time being.

“It seems she is serious about killing Sorey. I can manage here by myself, so please find him and protect him,” Wardell said.

“Way ahead of you,” Zaveid smiled.

“Oh, perhaps you can give us some insight on the hints!” Lailah asked.

Wardell out of the blue blushed. “U-Um, no, I think you and Zaveid are capable of figuring it out for yourselves. I have to see about the shrine. Good luck.” With that, Wardell gently blew them off the tower and set them onto the earth some two hundred feet below. “If you find them soon, tell them I said hi!”

The odd behavior confused them, and while they were upset that Wardell had both declined coming with them and forced them out of the shrine, they were ecstatic to finally move onto the next part in saving their friends. Once they left Westronbolt Gorge and came out to Pearloats Pasture, they found a spot to study the hints. Putting them all together, they read them:

_When swallowed by the turbulent storm,_  
_Everything will lie in ruin._  
_Voices of despair shall ring through the land,_  
_Scarred by the flames of anger._

_As time marches on,_  
_The soul loses hope._  
_In the muddied waters of sin,_  
_The eyes of light are blinded._

_However, light chases darkness,_  
_Just as darkness chases light._  
_Hallowed by his name,_  
_A savior from within his earthly home._

_A single speck to illuminate the darkness;_  
_A quiet breeze that resonates with the soul._  
_The sprout shall burst from the barren land,_  
_And life will begin anew once again._

Lailah and Zaveid read them over and over, but there was nothing they could glean that would suggest any sort of method to purifying the Shepherd or his seraph. It almost felt like it was a wasted effort.

“Wardell had a strange reaction when we asked for his help or opinion,” Lailah pointed out. “Maybe that was an unspoken clue?”

Zaveid mulled it over. Why would Wardell have such a reaction? He took each section and read them. He had previously thought that every hint was a prediction—an accurate one at that—but perhaps they were vague to accommodate a large variety of occurrences.

The first hint very clearly talked about the end of times, but there was something deeper. The second hint built on the first one with the impression that all hope was gone. The third hint was where it got confusing, and the last hint talked about something like rebirth. Add that to Wardell’s reaction, and…

“The epitome of the Shepherd’s existence is hope and love, and if a Shepherd—if a human falls, then that means there’s a lack of hope and love,” Lailah reasoned to herself. Zaveid listened to her closely. “So to fix the lack of hope and love, then the Shepherd needs to feel it again!”

“Oh, God, I know how to fix it, and I know why Wardell had that reaction,” Zaveid sighed.

“Oh? Well, how do we help Sorey?”

“We need to find him first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what the clues mean...
> 
> We'll found out later!


	29. Rejection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey and Mikleo return to Elysia, but they aren't ready for the cruelty in their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter since I've been really busy these past few weeks. But nevertheless, I hope you enjoy the heartache that is this chapter.

The walk back to Elysia was anything but a leisurely stroll through the continent. Mikleo understood that there was some sort of difference in Sorey, and his hunch only got worse with time. There was a peculiar dichotomy in his behaviors. When going through open lands where hellions lazily roamed, Sorey hunted them like game. He tortured them and killed them. He had lost his power of purification, and while that power made it possible to allow the hellion to revert to whatever form it was before it became corrupt, the lack of it was akin to savagery. The fallen Shepherd more often than not reveled in the consequent bloodshed, giggled giddily as he sliced off bits and pieces of them, and stared eagerly at the remains. It was a callousness and excitement that Mikleo had never seen in him. It frightened him.

The other part, though, was the complete opposite. Sorey had yearned for intimacy since waking up in his new state, and he constantly teased and played with his beloved water seraph. Whenever Mikleo wasn’t in the mood for fun, his harmless protests flicked a switch in Sorey’s head. He immediately became withdrawn to the point where even a concerned look was mistake for rage. Every attempt at touching his master was met with him pulling away, trembling like a newborn foal. He walked a few paces ahead or a few paces behind—and it was usually a few paces behind as if to keep him in his sights. There were times that Sorey even mumbled to himself, “I’m sorry. I-I really do love you. P-Please…don’t hurt me…”

The withdrawal lasted longer than the high from ripping enemies apart, sometimes for days on end which drove Mikleo crazy out of worry. Such times called for him to give the damaged brunet the space he begged for. When those things happened, Sorey was hesitant to sleep because he knew that seraphim didn’t require such routine activities and could attack like animals. He was still human; he hadn’t turned into a hellion yet, so he needed to sleep and eat.

“Sorey, let’s have sex,” Mikleo candidly suggested, hoping that having those feelings willingly would ground Sorey and calm him down. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please…please don’t…don’t do this to me…” Sorey ended up crying after registering the request. “I-I’ll be good…” 

These exchanges became the norm. It was a twisted relationship, even for Mikleo. How could a seraph hold such power over his Shepherd? There were times that Sorey was especially hysterical, brought on when the confused water seraph thought that a simple hug or a chaste kiss on the forehead or cheek would make him revert to his lovable self. Those types of actions were met with screams horrific enough to incur fear in Mikleo’s heart. Sorey frantically pushed himself away from him or curl up into a standing fetal position, doubling over shortly before vomiting bile from the stress and anxiety.

At night when Sorey did manage to sleep because Mikleo conceded to rest a specific distance away from him, he writhed in tune with nightmares. Tossing his head side to side, hyperventilating, screeching out pathetic pleas and bargains all echoed through the night. The sounds tunneled into the seraph’s ear, and before long, he would find himself trying to console him only to be pushed away once again.

They arrived at the waterfall that hid Lefay after almost two weeks of meandering about. Sorey decided he wanted to take a bath. He admitted that he had missed the luxuries of staying in inns, but since a massive percentage of people were dead or dying at this point, establishments like those were unusable.

“You sure you want to bathe in Lefay’s water, though?” Mikleo asked him. “I’ve fallen and I think the water is far too dirty for you.”

“Mikleo, please!” Sorey gradually shouted. He was breathing heavily, his eyes colored like leopard jasper shifting around his face. “Please, just…just go somewhere else.”

“I-I could help you wash up; I’ve been needing a bath myself.”

“ _Please!_ I…I can’t stand to be naked around you anymore…”

Mikleo reached out for him hesitantly then retracted his hand. It wouldn’t help if he forced himself by him side; still he felt compelled to keep an eye on him. Nevertheless, he obeyed him by sitting behind a rock that was a few paces away. He sat behind it, and after hearing the water sloshing as Sorey stepped into it with some nervousness, he timed himself to sneak at protective peek at him every five minutes. Even with things as they were now, he couldn’t help but relish the sight of Sorey. The laceration on his leg was healing nicely, and save for it, he was still the object of utmost beauty in the water seraph’s eyes. He knew back when things were normal and they were allowed their privacy with each other, Sorey was usually mesmerized by the fine-china-like heavenliness the water seraph possessed. Even if they had never shared their time like they were now except all the times the Shepherd panicked, they both realized that they appreciated each other’s existence and wouldn’t want anyone else.

It was this thought, eventually breaking through the dark apprehension that clouded his mind, that calmed Sorey. It gave him the peace he wanted, and as he washed his body in the poisoned water, there was a sense of liberation for the time being. No matter how tainted the water was, he would always cherish it.

Mikleo didn’t know what to do to keep himself busy as Sorey bathed. He didn’t want to rush him, but he didn’t want to waste too much time. He wondered if he could ask to join now that some time had passed.

“Don’t be stupid,” he chastised himself. “Sorey told you to stay over here. You at least are granted permission to check on him.”

Still, it had been so long since they had bathed, and because of that, he was starting to feel itchy. Had he walked into some poison ivy without noticing? He scratched at his arm through his sleeve, but it was like he couldn’t touch his skin. In fact, there was no sensation of touch; there was only pressure.

“What’s going on?” he whispered.

He rolled up his sleeve, and there glistening on his thin arm was a tiny patch of blue scales. His alexandrite eyes widened, a scream welling in his chest. He couldn’t let it out, he just couldn’t! If Sorey were to find out that he had grown scales…

“L-Let it be a disease. Please, let it just be some disease.”

“Mikleo?” Sorey called. “I’m done bathing. Did you want to bathe, too?”

The tainted seraph stood up from behind the rock. He pulled his sleeve down discreetly as he replied with false happiness, “No, I’m fine. I’m glad you got your bath.”

“I’m sorry for my behavior, but…”

“It’s fine! Nothing to worry about! Well, we should really get going!”

The sudden chipper attitude was enough to put Sorey back on edge, but rather than falling into his endless cycle of anxiety, he wanted to know why he was acting so…stilted. Mikleo, naturally, put distance between them, causing Sorey to worry if perhaps his desire to be far away from him during those periods of fear had transferred to him.

“Are you okay? I know I’m…being stupid…for telling you to stay away. I love you, but…”

Such hesitating words, or were they careful? He still believed that the water seraph was going to attack him. Mikleo gingerly placed his hand on his cheek.

“I’m fine. Let’s just go to Elysia,” he calmly said.

***

By nightfall, Zaveid and Lailah had made their way to the Aroundight Forest after hypothesizing that their friends were headed home. The labyrinthine forest had long dried up, the woody branches hanging by fibers and fungus growing on the trunks. They weren’t expecting to see it in such a condition. Then they made a morbid discovery.

“All the hellions…!” Lailah gasped.

“They’ve been gutted,” Zaveid finished. “I know I’ve said that death was a salvation, but this…this isn’t doing the corrupted any favors.”

Heads were strewn about, entrails draped over protruding roots, and claws and bits and pieces ripped from the bodies. Whoever had done it went far beyond just killing for sport. Lailah wanted to properly bury them, yet Zaveid saw no point in doing so.

“These hellions may deserve some sort of mourning, but in the end, they were hellions,” he said.

Lailah and Zaveid continued, following the blood trail through the rotting trees to the foot of the mountain where Elysia was. Each step closer to the seraphic village brought with it a growing suspicion and horror that someone they knew and love was behind the carnage behind them.

***

As Mikleo and Sorey crossed the threshold into Gramps’s domain, they felt weak. A sharp contrast to their memories as children playing in the village, they sympathized with hellion intruders. It felt like they were pulling twenty caravan carts behind them with just their legs. The holy power was choking them; they couldn’t falter, though. They wanted to see their beloved Gramps.

"You really should clean off the blood,” Mikleo cautioned.

“Gramps knows that we have to fight hellions,” Sorey rebutted. “He’ll understand.”

“Don’t you remember when Lunarre broke in? He set out to destroy him.”

“But he didn’t.”

“Because he didn’t want to scare everyone.”

“It’ll be fine.”

The village of Elysia was still as pristine as ever. The malevolence hadn’t seeped through the powerful domain, and everyone was going on about their daily lives of simply lounging in the comfort and safety of Gramps’s protection. A small memorial had been built by Mason’s home after he was eaten alive by Lunarre.

“Natalie, have you paid respects today?” Cynthia asked.

“Not yet, were you about to?” Natalie replied.

“Kyme, need a hand with some of these errands!” Ed called.

“I’ll be right there!” Kyme responded.

Mikleo and Sorey were happy to see that everyone was doing just fine. That is, until they entered the village. All the activities and happy chatter stopped. Silence filled the village as their friends greeted them with disturbed stares.

“We’re home!” Sorey happily said.

The seraphim began screaming, running for their homes and holing themselves in them. The two young men weren’t sure what had caused such a scare, but they would figure that out later. Right now, the priority was seeing Gramps again and being welcomed home.

The grass they treaded on died of blight, the stench of blood wafted throughout the village—Gramps could sense these things, and he was afraid that the Lord of Calamity had breached his field.

“Zenrus, what’s wrong?” one of the older seraphim in the village asked. He sipped his tea.

“Don’t you feel something dastardly here? A couple of hellions have entered the domain,” the village chief said.

“What?”

“Please stay here,” Zenrus ordered. “I shall see about this threat. If something should happen, please use the seals I’ve prepare, round everyone up in here, and lock this place.”

Zenrus, Sorey and Mikleo’s dearest Gramps, left the house to confront those uninvited guests. He met Sorey and Mikleo halfway in the center of the village just before they had passed Sorey’s house. He couldn’t believe his eyes nor believe his senses.

“Gramps!” Sorey happily said.

“We’re back!” Mikleo said, a little less excited.

“What has happened to you two?” Zenrus asked himself, beside himself, trying to fool himself. “What have you done?!” he interrogated loudly.

The Shepherd and his seraph stopped. They felt like children again. “We killed the Lord of Calamity,” Sorey fearfully said. “We saved the world.”

“Do you understand what you have done?! Do you understand what _you_ have become?!”

“G-Gramps, please don’t yell,” Mikleo asked.

Zenrus couldn’t believe the two children he had worked so hard to raise without malevolence had fallen deeper than he had ever anticipated. He felt betrayed and cheated. How could Sorey and Mikleo, the two people in the whole world that cared about everything, have fallen to the malevolence? He had always hoped of welcoming them back with open arms and kisses, but now they were a threat not only to everything in the world that still breathed but to themselves.

“Gramps, aren’t you happy to see us?” Sorey tearfully questioned.

“I would have been, but had I known you would have become the next Lord of Calamity…” Zenrus replied. “I will give you a warning only because I can’t bear to kill the two I see as my own sons; leave this place at once. You cannot return here.”

Sorey and Mikleo fell silent. They were numb. They asked to stay, voices cracking while trying to hold back their sobs; but their parent refused. They fell to their knees and crawled to him only to watch him step back from them. Groveling at his feet, they begged for his love and acceptance that they had enjoyed for seventeen years. Their sobs grew louder and more desperate—like how a baby deer cries for its mother as it gets left behind.

“What you two have done has led to the destruction of the world; I can even feel your sins in the air. If you want to live, I suggest you _leave this place_ ,” Zenrus reiterated.

“No…! No, Gramps, don’t do this!” Sorey bawled.

“We came home to be with you…!” Mikleo added.

Zenrus gritted his teeth. He had had a long life up until now without such heartache. He truly wanted to be their Gramps, but they were too sullied. If they wouldn’t obey him, he was determined to chase them out. He summoned a collection of storm clouds which circled above Elysia and blocked out the sun. A lightning bolt struck in front of Mikleo.

“I ordered you to leave my village, hellions!” he shouted at them. “The first one was a warning, but if you stay here, you will force my hand to use my lightning against you!”

“G-Gramps—!”

“I am no longer your Gramps.”

These words were like a million daggers into their hearts. The only parent they had ever known disowned them. Mikleo reflexively reached up for him for a hug or some type of embrace, and the only way Zenrus could stop him was to shock him with his lightning. Mikleo was momentarily paralyzed, and Sorey became furious that Zenrus had turned a malicious bolt on him. But he didn’t want to hurt him either.

“G-Gramps…please…” Mikleo quivered.

Zenrus shocked him again. “I said to leave! Please, boys, I don’t want to hurt you anymore!”

Sorey took Mikleo’s other hand and pulled him along back to the entrance to the village. Heartbroken, he wanted to run far away from everything. He passed right by Lailah and Zaveid, entering the Aroundight Forest. Tears flowed from his and Mikleo’s eyes. They clung to each other as they collapsed to their knees, lamenting that they were essentially exiled from their only sanctuary left in the world. Sorey held onto Mikleo tightly.

“Even Gramps…even Gramps…” he breathed. “Mikleo…we’re alone…”

“I know, Sorey…” he wept.

At times like these, both of them thought that being encircled in each other’s love would help. A forest, however, was not an ideal place to engage with each other, and Mikleo felt sick from the shocks. Concerned for his health, Sorey took him back to the waterfall that held Lefay where Mikleo could recuperate and he could digest what had happened to the memories of his home life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is actually inspired by the one video of that lady (hopefully not really) kicking her kid out for voting for Trump in a mock election as well as videos of baby animals being abandoned by their mothers. I draw inspiration from the strangest of places, don't I?


	30. Preparations for Consummation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zaveid and Lailah receive Zenrus's blessing, but is Sorey willing to do as they say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Semester's almost done! One more day! And then I can post more chapters!

During the confrontation between Zenrus and his children, Lailah and Zaveid had hid behind the arch marking the entrance to Elysia. They were planning on intercepting them either after Zenrus accepted them back into or after they were rejected from the village. They hadn’t expected the catharsis that came from watching them, and they were sure that Sorey and Mikleo would sense them upon leaving the Elysia. On the contrary, Zenrus was the one to discover them. Despite his eyebrows and beard covering much of his face, they saw how distraught he was after shocking them and throwing them out. The old lightning seraph had a reputation for being an extremely powerful seraph, stronger than both of them combined. He also had a reputation for being rather stoic in the face of something such as disowning his children, but perhaps that was because many seraphim outside of the village didn’t know that he had kids. Even giants were vulnerable to the sorrows of abandoning their loved ones.

“How long were you two standing there?” he hoarsely asked them.

“Not long,” Lailah carefully told him. “We were hoping to catch them, but…”

“I raised those two since they were but babes. I was so careful to make sure that they wouldn’t be influenced by the malevolence, went so far as to isolate Sorey from other humans and train Mikleo so that he would never let him falter. How could this have happened?”

“There’s a long story to it,” Zaveid mentioned.

“I’ll bet there is. Lady Lailah, Zaveid—I know of both of you not from your travels with Sorey and Mikleo but from past records. If you would do me the honor as Prime Lord and Sub-Lord, please join me in my home.”

Lailah and Zaveid were flabbergasted. They were formally invited by one of the strongest seraphim on the continent and their friends’ father figure to sit at home with him. Of course, they knew that Zenrus would want to hear what they had to say about Sorey and Mikleo’s current predicament. There was a nagging feeling inside, however, that begged them not to say anything. With the old lightning seraph being their caretaker, though, they had to inform him of everything when things went awry after killing Heldalf.

They followed him to his stone house, and inside they gathered around the fire pit where water always boiled for tea. After preparing his guests a cup, Zenrus sat down. He reflexively went for the nonexistent pipe that used to sit in front of him when he wanted to relax, remembering that he had given it to his children to sell if they needed money. He became quietly sad.

“So, tell me, why did Sorey and Mikleo fall to the malevolence?” Zenrus eventually asked once he came to terms that they were lost.

Lailah spoke first:

“We had learned that Heldalf was the Lord of Calamity, and we chased after him. It was a foolish move, but we did. Confronting him, Sorey waged battle until Heldalf commanded his seraph, Symonne, to take the other seraphim hostage. Upon his order, she filled Mikleo with pure malevolence.”

Zenrus clenched his teeth as a lump formed in his throat. It was bittersweet; Mikleo didn’t succumb to the outside influences of the human world, but he was put through so much pain.

“After that, Mikleo has progressively become more tainted. He sabotaged our fight with Edna’s brother and caused Edna to turn into a dragon before she was killed. Zaveid left us to find a solution to all this, but while he was gone…”

Lailah let out a shaky sigh as she remembered Alisha’s, Sergei’s, and Rose’s demise.

“While he was gone, Mikleo manipulated the circumstances. He is the reason all of Sorey’s closest friends are dead. After Rose died, I was forced to break my pact with Sorey. I feel so guilty. I shouldn’t have left him alone with him. I was such a coward!”

Zaveid rested a gentle hand on her thin shoulder.

“You’re not the only one to blame. When I left the group, I went on a journey to find a way to help Mikleo. Thankfully, the Shrines of the Trials had hints, and we’ve recently finished up getting them all. The only problem now is to catch up to Sorey and Mikleo and tell them the solution.”

The lightning seraph sat unmoving for a while then sipped his tea. He still wanted to know how Sorey had fallen so far. Malevolence transferred from a seraph couldn’t possibly have such a drastic effect, and typically malevolence flowed from the Shepherd to the seraphim he bonded to. He didn’t quite know who Symonne was, but it was obvious she had a part in all this. There was another thing—Mikleo’s murderous intent. He had always prided himself for raising the boys to be caring and kind. Why had Mikleo become this way?

“Hmm, that Symonne knows how to capitalize on innocent love,” Zenrus grumbled.

Lailah and Zaveid were confused.

It dawned on him that Mikleo’s love for Sorey was corrupted because the water seraph’s very existence had always been dedicated to protecting him. The love born from living with him for his entire life had so many dimensions, and he had always known about it. Mikleo saw him as a friend, a brother, and as a lover; but he could never admit. The lightning seraph was proud that he loved him so much, hypothesizing that perhaps that love only existed for Sorey. If it had been anyone else to become the Shepherd, he wouldn’t have connected so deeply. He didn’t doubt that Mikleo wished to express his love, but he understood that perhaps they were afraid for others to know about it.

He remembered one night just before bed when they were starting to learn about Sorey’s adolescent blossoming when Mikleo called Sorey outside. He looked nervous, so Zenrus had snuck over by the wooden door to listen.

“S-Sorey, I want to tell you my true name,” Mikleo had sheepishly stuttered.

“Huh? But aren’t you supposed to do that when you find someone you really like?” Sorey innocently inquired.

“Yeah, and I have…found someone that I like.”

“Oh? Who? Is it Cynthia? Or Natalie? I mean, both are way older than us, but—”

“It’s you, you dummy.”

Sorey had blushed so much that both Mikleo and Zenrus thought he was bleeding from his face. At the time, it was clear that the would-be Shepherd didn’t understand his seraph’s feelings for what they truly were. It was normal.

“ _Luzrov Rulay_ ,” Mikleo told him in his ear.

Sorey’s doe-like eyes softened even more. Even if he didn’t understand love back then, he was containing the happiness that was bursting from his little heart that Mikleo saw him that way. They exchanged pecks on each other’s cheeks.

Mikleo never intended to hurt Sorey or anyone for the sake of love. It was only when it became corrupted that all the inhibitions put in place by morality were destroyed. Zenrus wasn’t surprised if at this point they were deepening the lust aspect of it.

“What is the solution?” he asked.

Zaveid explained what Lailah had initially thought. The plan was to get Sorey to feel and express pure love again. Then Zaveid took it a step further—the only one that would ever receive such a gift from the Shepherd in this day and age was his most treasured seraph.

“We plan on getting Sorey to put the love back into lovemaking,” he triumphantly said.

“Z-Zaveid! That’s what you came up with?!” Lailah said, mortified by his brazenness.

“Well, I fully believe that it will work,” Zenrus replied with a smile. “Mikleo and Sorey love each other, and as their caretaker, I don’t appreciate them getting involved with such frivolous activities, but who am I to stop them? If anything, I pray that this will be the result of true love and not more malevolence-induced lust.”

It was a stretch, but Zaveid and Lailah were glad to have gotten Zenrus’s blessing for them. When they left, all three of them felt better about the situation, but whether or not it would work was a different story. They certainly hoped it would.

***

Mikleo soaked in the pool under the water fall in an attempt to cool the burns from Zenrus’s lightning bolts. He was heartbroken just like Sorey, but he wanted to grieve in solitude. He told Sorey to scout the area near the Aroundight Forest. It was his fault that they couldn’t go home. It was his fault that they had gotten hurt. The tears fell from his tightly shut eyes, making tiny ripples in the water. Hugging himself, he blamed himself for everything.

“Why is my arm so itchy?” he asked himself in frustration. 

He remembered that he was plagued with scales, and unfortunately the patch had grown bigger. Mikleo couldn’t help but wonder if he could pull them out. He picked at one until it flipped straight up on his arm. At first it didn’t hurt, like a simple door hinge being wiggled. When he gripped it and lightly pulled, he felt it pulling his skin with it. He bit his lip and ripped the scale off. He didn’t expect the following painful to be so dreadful, and as he scrambled to press down on the fresh wound to stop the bleeding, he realized that trying to scratch them off would only cause him more discomfort. After a half-minute of holding the wound, it felt raw. Even the air—as stagnant as it was—irritated it.

“I can’t let him see this,” he whispered. “If it means we can’t be intimate, then fine. I can’t make Sorey feel worse than he does now.”

Meanwhile, Sorey had taken up to kicking around stones near the Aroundight Forest. He didn’t like being so far away from Mikleo, even if he had been an emotional seesaw of wanting to be with him and being scared to get close to him since he woke up. It wasn’t like he wanted to avoid him.  
Suddenly, a powerful wave of the malevolence rushed through him, its power unlike any he had experienced before. It gripped his soul and threatened to tear it into pieces. It was nauseating just like how Heldalf’s malevolence had been when he first met him. But why would that kind of malevolence be anywhere near him if the Lord of Calamity was dead and he himself had fallen?

“Lailah, be careful!” Zaveid’s voice echoed from deep within the forest.

“Zaveid?” Sorey reflexively uttered. The name felt so odd on his tongue and lips after so long. “Lailah!”

The fallen Shepherd dashed into the forest recklessly, continuously calling out his former friends’ names. There he found Symonne preparing to fill the wind seraph with her pure malevolence as she pinned him to a tree with several clones.

“You’re getting in my way!” she snarled.

“Do your worst!” Zaveid taunted her. He braced himself for her attack.

“Shatterfang!” Sorey yelled. He leapt into the air, banging his ceremonial sword against Symonne’s head. He glared at her. “You again?”

“Ah, the fallen Shepherd—or should I say, the new Lord of Calamity?” Symonne purred. “Glad you decided to show up here. Maotelus was getting antsy not being able to find you.”

“Maotelus?”

Lailah, who had been pushed into the safety of the bushes moments before, fired a few flaming projectiles at the fallen seraph. She couldn’t let Sorey know her reason for looking for him. Zaveid followed up with a gust of wind. Before she fell into a tree with branches jutting out of the bottom half of the trunk, she teleported to the canopy above.

“Three against one isn’t fair, but I’ll be back for you, Fallen Shepherd,” Symonne warned. She hopped through the canopy. Her arm was bleeding from a deep scratch from a previous attack.

Sorey glared up to where she had been. For once, he felt hatred. He hated Symonne for what she had done to Mikleo, and he hated her for whatever she was doing now. Lailah lightly touched his back only to recoil after the malevolence sent a jolt through her. She wanted to caution him about hatred, but since he had already fallen, she wondered if there was any point. She could be glad for one thing and that was the fact that Sorey tried to help them.

Lailah and Zaveid looked their former master over. He looked normal besides the change in his clothes; he hadn’t started turning into a hellion, but they assumed that was because Mikleo was still his normal self. Should he turn into a dragon or even a less strong hellion, there was no doubt that that would be when Sorey’s soul would give out.

“You look well,” the fire seraph said, unsure of how to greet him in his new disposition.

“You do, too!” Sorey happily said. He was delighted to see them regardless of where he was in his existence. He wanted to ask them so many questions about where they had gone and how they were since they broke their pacts with him. “It can’t be easy. Why don’t you come back with Mikleo and me?”

There was hesitation before Zaveid politely declined. If they joined back with him, they would meet their ends. That couldn’t happen.

Lailah took a step forward, gingerly holding his hands with a forlorn expression. She asked him, “May I try my Silver Flame on you?”

“You’re really scared of what will happen to me in all this malevolence, huh?” Sorey softly, caringly sighed. “Okay, but do it quick. I left Mikleo by the waterfall. If he finds me here with you, he might not be happy.”

With a nod, Lailah concentrated. She remembered when she tried to purify Mikleo with the same method in Marlind, and it only caused him pain. The only difference was that his water attributes protected him from getting severely burned. Sorey wasn’t so fortunate to have them. She recited an incantation before the Shepherd was engulfed in the flames he had once wielded. He tried to contain his screams, but the flames were unbearable. Every nerve ending fired to his brain; the malevolence wasn’t dissipating. He was past the point of no return. She used Imbuement on him then apologized.

“So, that method really is the only way he can be purified then,” Zaveid mumbled.

“What method?” Sorey asked him.

“We’ve been looking for a way to help you and Mikleo, and we believe that we’ve found something,” Lailah explained. “The Guardians left hints, and we finally figured them out.”

“Basically, Sorey, you and Mikleo need to foster true love—pure love, not lust,” the wind seraph bluntly said. “The only way to do that is to make love.”

Sorey froze, his stomach dropping so far that he nearly vomited. Withdrawing into himself, he quietly uttered:

“No.”

Zaveid and Lailah were surprised that Sorey had declined the idea of having sex with Mikleo, yet not as surprising when the former considered his body language. Either way, they didn’t know of the dark secret between the naïve Shepherd and the yearning water seraph. He couldn’t tell them anyway. Between repressing the memory of what had happened in Trizolde Cave and suffering through the brief moments in which it reared its nasty head, Sorey was forced to teeter between the extremes to attempt to preserve his fragile sanity. He hugged himself, and he slowly calmed down.

“I-I can’t do that…” he stuttered.

“But, don’t you love Mikleo?” Lailah asked, genuinely confused. Or perhaps she was trying to deny that maybe the wicked water seraph had gotten what he wanted. “By doing this, you could save him from himself.”

“Lailah, you don’t understand! I-It’s not that simple…”

He was trembling. The fire seraph backed off.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

Zaveid grimaced as Sorey struggled to recount what horrors he had suffered through alone with Mikleo. Each sentence met with a wave of anxiety stronger than the last until finally he was reduced to a hyperventilating mess, falling to his knees while holding his head. Lailah rushed to his side. She lightly touched his hand then recoiled from the malevolence.

“I want to be with him, but how can I when he did that to me? Was it really all he wanted to do in the first place? Did he just want to hurt me and believe that I would be okay?” Sorey wept.

Lailah looked up at Zaveid. She didn’t want to force him to do something he wanted to do; that much she could do to protect him anything else that would break his heart and soul. And while Zaveid himself was deeply sorry that he wasn’t there to protect him, there was no other way on hand to combat the malevolence. It was wrong— he tried hard to deny that and failed every time.

“How do I put this gently?” he asked himself as he rubbed his neck. “Um, your grandpa talked with us about Mikleo and how Symonne’s malevolence changed him. You’ve got to listen, alright? Mikleo really loves you, and you really love Mikleo. The malevolence inside of him twisted his love into something ugly—you’ve got to remember that. Whatever Mikleo did to you was a result of that. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Sorey. I’m sure he doesn’t.”

Lailah nodded in agreement. “Everyone knows that you two cherish each other. You only have eyes for each other, too, right? If you believe in the love that you have for Mikleo, I’m sure the purity in him will break free of the evil growing inside his heart.”

Even though Sorey knew that what they were saying was true, it was still hard to wrap his head around it. To him, it was something like when an animal is suddenly betrayed. He had cared for Mikleo for seventeen years, and he was repaid with something so invasive that he was afraid to be close to him. It was a rigid bifurcation into a dichotomy that, in that moment, had formed. Then he remembered the young Mikleo from his dreams, the one that pleaded him not to give into the devious lust incubated by the malevolence. That child had to exist somewhere in Mikleo. That tiny speck of light within Mikleo was the only thing that was keeping him from turning into a dragon and killing his lover blindly.

“I have to protect him,” Sorey suddenly said. “The child that still lives in Mikleo; he needs me.”

Lailah and Zaveid glanced at each other. It was a mystery what he was talking about, but if it got him to listen to them and to at least attempt to purify Mikleo, then they would take it.

“Sorey?” Mikleo called from the edge of Aroundight Forest. “Where did you go?”

Zaveid, sensing that the malevolence had grown much stronger in the water seraph, ushered Lailah into the canopy above.

“Wait!” Sorey called behind Zaveid. “If I do this for you—if I…make love…with Mikleo, then you’ve got to pay me back. We’re missing two iris gems. If I can distract Mikleo for the time being with this, then you should be able to find the final two iris gems.”

“It’s a deal,” Zaveid smiled. He leapt up into the trees, where he and Lailah snuck through to start on their search for the remaining iris gems.

Mikleo emerged from the brush. He looked more than just worried. There was a fleeting sensation in the air of others in the area. Rather than go on the hunt for them, he gripped Sorey’s arms.

“I’d finished my bath a while ago, and you never came back,” he almost whimpered. “I thought you’d disappeared or gotten killed or something!”

“N-No…I’m fine,” Sorey stiffly replied.

The alexandrite eyes gazed at him, and Sorey’s heart leapt before tugging trying to get away. No, he had to be resilient. He had to help Mikleo. It was going to be strenuous on his mind, but both of them were in danger. He had the power to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see that coming with the method? I bet you did. Partly because I want to give recompense for the not-so-nice stuff that happened a few chapters ago. Still sorry for that, but perhaps I can make it better? D:


	31. Introspection Game through Glass Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey must start thinking about how to convince Mikleo to sleep with him, but how can he do that when he himself is hesitant?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two songs used for inspiration ("Game" by MUCC and "Glass Skin" by DIR EN GREY) were shown to me over JLPT weekend. A three hour drive gave me a new collection of J-Rock--so thank you to my road trip mates :D

Trying to convince Mikleo to have sex with him wasn’t going to be easy—or so Sorey had thought. Because neither one of them knew what demons were eating away at each other’s hearts, such an act between them was essentially impossible. The first thing to do was to get over the inherent fear of committing to making love. But how was he going to do that? Mikleo was the only one he had, and even then, the idea of intimacy still gave birth to the anxiety that had been plaguing him since he woke from the nightmare in Trizolde Cave.

He tried to remember one of the many psychology lessons Rose had given him during their journey. He recognized that he had post-traumatic stress, yet she had only briefly talked about methods to alleviate or even extinguish the anxiety that was so deeply burned into his heart. The only other way he could imagine to get over the apprehension that came with becoming sexually aroused was to bring those sensations upon himself. Unfortunately, he would need his privacy to do that, and that wasn’t fathomable now that Mikleo was terrified of letting him out of his sight.

They hadn’t made much progress aside from moving from Lakehaven Heights back west towards the Falkewin Hillside. They were aimlessly walking around with nothing better to do. The hellions were running away from them, so Sorey couldn’t entertain himself with torturing them. Then he realized that he was simply trying to run away from it again by taking it out on the monsters. He had to come up with something to get him to loosen up. But in addition to that, he had to coerce Mikleo into going back to Lohgrin without telling him why for the sake of the plan backfiring.

“U-Uh, Mikleo, let’s go visit Marlind,” he suggested.

If he could get him started in that direction, then things might go a little easier. The events of what had last happened in Marlind were still etched in his memory, so if he could also dig them up to make Mikleo pause and think what he had done, then he could get some alone time to try and remedy his anxiety.

But all this was simply ideal. There was no guarantee that the tainted water seraph was going to agree to returning to Marlind, much less leaving Sorey alone in the cursed place where disease still loomed.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Mikleo told him. “Why would you want to go back there of all places and now of all times?”

“I want to properly mourn Rose.”

The reason had come out without a second thought, but it clearly had an effect on him. Biting his lip, Mikleo reluctantly agreed. The patch of scales on his arm, hidden by his cerulean sleeve, was starting to irritate him as he thought about seeing her rotting skeleton. He ran all kinds of excuses and determents in his head so Sorey wouldn’t want to go.

“D-Do you really want to see her remains? After all, she’ll be so badly decomposed that you won’t even recognize her! Besides, hellions might have dragged her body somewhere else!”

“It’s because you know this isn’t the right way to do it,” Mikleo’s tiny voice told him from inside. The child that had been haunting his dreams materialized before his eyes. A sweet hallucination, his kind violet eyes peered into his heart. “You’ve fallen, but you’re still pure.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know, but perhaps it’s because you know deep inside that doing this to yourself won’t accomplish anything. You still believe in your love for him.”

The young Mikleo walked gracefully to him as he knelt down, and he wiped his tears away. There was something comforting in seeing him, and whether or not he was real, he felt at peace. When he remembered that Mikleo was once just as pure as he was, it became easier to dismiss the evilness that had forced him to attack him.

“Listen to your heart, Sorey, and there is nothing to scared of.”

Meanwhile, Mikleo lay on his side on a pew in the sanctuary as he stared at the scorch marks from Lailah’s fires when she tried to purify him. He never wanted to feel that fire again, but he anticipated that one day she would try to do it him again, and at that time he wouldn’t be spared. He wondered if he would mind burning to death. It would be incredibly painful, and by no means would it be over in an instant. And…would it frighten Sorey? Would it scare him if he was so suddenly resigned to die for his sins? He rolled onto his back and stared at the decrepit ceiling. Would it hurt if the building collapsed on him?

“If only I hadn’t let my feelings gone astray, I wouldn’t be feeling like this,” he said to himself. “Sorey, how can you ever forgive me for this? Is this why you want to be alone? Is it because you’re really disgusted with me? I wanted you to love me. I wanted you to be mine forever. But…” Mikleo sat up, hugging his arms. “But now that I look back on it, you always did. We were always together. So why did I feel like you were drifting away from me?”

He hugged his knees and sniffled.

“Why did I ever think you would leave me? You were never going to leave me, and yet I forced you to do something so degrading. I forced myself onto you without feeling any remorse until now, and for what? You won’t even let me touch your cheeks or look at you or talk to you.”

The doors to the sanctuary moaned as they opened to reveal Sorey coming in. Mikleo quickly dried his face, smacking it until his facial muscles relaxed from the frowning. He prayed that he didn’t hear him; he wasn’t ready to tell him his apology or to hear what he had to say after it.

“S-Sorey? Are you done mourning Rose?” Mikleo cautiously asked. He thought it was a mean way to ask, but he didn’t want to stay in Marlind any longer with those thoughts circulating in his brain. “Shall we leave?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Where to?”

The goal was to get back to Lohgrin without explicitly saying so.

“Let’s go to Pendrago.”

“The city doesn’t exist anymore.”

“I know. A lot of good people lost their lives there.”

That comment felt like a knife through his stomach. Mikleo at once believed him to be blaming him for the carnage that had happened, and he wasn’t wrong. After all, he had been the reason that Hyland destroyed Rolance.

The entire trek to the remains of Pendrago was more harrowing than the visit to Marlind. While most of the nature throughout the continent had suffered at Sorey’s hands, it became clear that things had progressed so quickly because Mikleo had filled him with malevolence. Each step closer to Pendrago meant he was closer to breaking down.

“Sorey, why are we going to all these places anyway?” he asked in an attempt to prevent himself from crying. “Are you trying to make me feel sad?”

“No, I just want to see the damage,” Sorey replied.

“Why? Do you enjoy feeling depressed?”

“Because we’re heading back to Lohgrin. It’s the only place left with some amount of people. They’ve been hearing rumors that all the other cities have fallen,” the corrupted Shepherd half-truthfully told him. Even still, there was no more use in hiding it.

“I don’t understand.”

“I clashed with Symonne. She said something about Maotelus looking for me.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“I want to see how horribly we hurt everyone by killing Heldalf without knowing the whole story. That way, when I’m killed by Maotelus, I’ll have my sins to present.”

Was this a test? Mikleo couldn’t help but frantically think that was the case.

“M-Maotelus won’t kill you because he’s sealed away somewhere!”

“He was freed, and now Symonne is controlling him. She’s looking for me either to feed him my malevolence or my flesh—maybe both.”

“Sorey, stop saying these things. You don’t know what could happen!”

“We will when we get to Lohgrin.”

Sorey hoped they would. Everything would come to light if Zaveid and Lailah were able to get the last two iris gems.

***

“Dammit!” Zaveid cursed.

“What’s wrong?” Lailah asked.

“We should have gone back and asked Zenrus about the iris gems!”

The two were searching the Plitzerback Wetlands for the hellion Titan. They had already gotten an iris gem in the rubble of the Knights’ Tower in Pendrago. It took Zaveid a few tries to hone in on the last gem by reading the wind. With the breeze carrying stagnant scents and other indicators of waste, he was faced with debilitating nausea. Nevertheless, he was adamant about obtaining it. It was the last thing they needed to put things back in order.

“What does this thing even look like?” he grumbled.

“If I remember correctly, it looks like a giant rock monster that adults usually tell fairytales about to their kids. It shouldn’t be hard to find at all,” Lailah explained.

“So says the one who isn’t using the wind to find it.”

It turned out that the Titan was toward the very center of the Lhitwerg Woods in the wetland. It towered over Zaveid by a large margin, and both seraphim weren’t sure they would succeed in purifying it. The malevolence that flowed through the air and land had undoubtedly buffed its strength, but now wasn’t the time to get scared.

Zaveid wrapped it up in his chains, allowing Lailah to trace them with her fire. The Titan was made of stone, so fire did little to hurt it. Wind was also ineffective. The only element that didn’t suffer halved damage was water, and since Mikleo had turned against the light, they couldn’t very well rely on him even if he was there. Thus, they were going to have to chip away at it until he couldn’t fight anymore.

The Titan had a giant mace-like arm made of crystal; one hit from that would surely kill them. Out of frustration of being too slow to catch them, the hellion swatted the area around it. Lailah leapt up to its face, bursting fireball after fireball. The Titan screeched in pain, and with it temporarily blinded, Zaveid wrapped up its legs.

They used their Mystic Artes as often as they could, but it still wasn’t enough. The Titan broke through the chains and stomped the ground. Lailah lost her balance in front of the hellion. It raised its arm above her.

“Lailah!” Zaveid yelled out. He down to her rescue just in time to push her out of the deathblow, and while Zaveid was still alive, his leg was severely damaged. “Shit!”

“I-Imbue—”

“Forget about me, just keep attacking it! We can see about my leg after we get that gem!”

The Titan was going in for another attack. Lailah twirled away, her hair being barely cut by the razor-sharp crystals. With enough distance, she focused her mind. “Primal Embrace!” she cried out.

She formed a ring of her magic papers that called forth a ripple of fire which transformed into a flaming vortex that engulfed the hellion. It had used up all her energy, and she hoped that the Titan would be defeated.

The hellion, looming over her, was charred. The tiny yellow dots that had been its eyes were black as if the life force had been sucked from it. The body crumbled, and within its core was the iris gem.

“We did it!” Zaveid celebrated. “Quick, let’s get back to Lohgrin!”

“But Zaveid…your leg…” Lailah panted. She hobbled to him. She fell to her knees and rested her hands on his bleeding leg. “You can’t walk…if you’re injured…”

“Don’t push yourself!”

“Imbuement.”

Zaveid leg healed somewhat; the bleeding had stopped, but it ached from probably a fracture or two. It was a reminder that seraphim weren’t exempt from death. He wasn’t concerned about himself, however. He worried about Lailah, who had used most of her being in the attack.

“Lailah, if you want to rest, I can carry you,” he offered.

“I’m fine…” she responded between breaths.

“No, you’re not.”

He carefully lifted her up. Once again, he felt guilty for holding her in his arms like a damsel in distress, but overexertion would be the death of her if he didn’t. He walked with a limp back to the cave that had brought them to the Plitzerback Wetland while making sure that his former Prime Lord was resting. In case things went awry with Sorey and Mikleo or if Symonne decided to attack them, she needed to be ready. In thinking all this, Zaveid worried that he was reaching his limit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I didn't kind of ship Zaveid and Edna, I'd ship Zaveid and Lailah...this was purely unintentional. That said, what's going to happen to Zaveid?


	32. When the Pressure Is Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey is slowly coming to terms with his task, and when it's time, Mikleo can't take it anymore. After a resounding revelation, Mikleo snaps under the pressure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably one of my favorite chapters to write since I'm all about them long monologues and catharsis!

“The Shepherd’s back!” one of the citizens of Lohgrin rejoiced. The small crowd circled around Sorey, greeting him with potatoes and praise. “Tell us, Shepherd, why did you leave so suddenly? The world outside these walls is bleak. Pendrago and Ladylake have fallen, and there aren’t many humans left. Were you perhaps trying to help the situation? Are we the last living souls?”

The brunet confirmed that Lohgrin was the only city still standing, but it wouldn’t be for long. The malevolence grew stronger still. Maotelus was hunting him down. Time was running out. Of course, if he had told them that they were going to die soon, he would lose their favor. They would fall into a panic and chase him out of the crumbling city, and the plan to rendezvous with Zaveid and Lailah would be endangered. It was paramount that they stay near the monolith since that one in particular had an aura that Sorey couldn’t quite explain. He wasn’t sure if Mikleo felt it, but the first night they stayed in Lohgrin after falling, there was a warmth. It didn’t register that the warmth not only came from the iris gems that had been in his pocket but from the very core of his existence. The light encapsulated in the monolith had been reaching out to him, its hidden truth beckoning his soul.

“What do you think will happen to the world, Shepherd?” the people asked.

“I…I don’t know,” he reluctantly said. “I’m trying to find the answer. Don’t worry.”

The hollers of joy diminished into whispers of doubt. The people were nervous. Sorey slipped away from the crowd as they murmured amongst themselves about what he had said and whether or not they should be worried for any ill omens.

He took cover down the alley leading to the monolith, and Mikleo, who had been residing inside of him since they had arrived, dissimilated. He hugged him knowing that his master was stuck in a rut about what to do. They had fallen, but they still felt it was their duty to provide some sort of comfort to the last remaining humans on the continent.

“Did you want to talk them? Is that why you wanted to come back to Lohgrin?” he softly asked.

“I did, but I don’t have the heart to tell them they might not make it,” Sorey replied. “Mikleo, am I doing the right thing?”

“The Shepherd is a beacon of hope; you’re trying to do your job as best as you can, and I will be there to support you.”

Mikleo hugged him tighter as if he was trying to convince himself more than his lover that they were still saviors. His arm started itching again, but he didn’t dare touch it. Instead and in an attempt to ignore the itching, he nuzzled his cheek into the Shepherd’s chin.

No matter how much he wanted to stay like that with Sorey the Gentle Shepherd, the young man that he had always loved, he feared the bubbling regret in his body, like a pot that was slowly starting to boil after simmering for so long. The shadows of doubt and evil that once plagued Mikleo’s dreams had to be dealt with sooner or later before the scales on his arms developed enough that they would creep from under his sleeves into the open. He wanted to tell him, but he couldn’t. Why should he when Sorey was already unsure of his role? His job was to comfort him, not make him suffer. But wasn’t it because he made him suffer that he was losing hope in the first place?

Mikleo reluctantly let go of him, sliding his hands down his arms and holding his hands. Looking of up at him with his alexandrite eyes, he told him:

“I love you with all my heart. Please don’t forget that.”

Sorey chuckled quietly. “I love you, too, Mikleo. No matter what, I always will.”

Gulping, Mikleo forced himself to hold back his tears. Would Sorey still feel that way if he learned of everything his water seraph did?

Night soon fell over Lohgrin, and Sorey asked that Mikleo go back to the inn tent to rest. The water seraph protested, saying that it would scare the people. Sorey didn’t want him to be around when Zaveid and Lailah arrived. He couldn’t risk them getting into a fight when he was to prepare himself. It helped that they had told each other that they loved each other, but simply saying sweet-nothings would be useless once he committed to sleeping with him.

“I’ll only go if you go,” Mikleo pouted. “Going by myself is just a really bad idea since these people aren’t used to seeing tents opening and invisible masses leaving impressions on the bedding.”

“Alright, alright; you win,” Sorey laughed.

Sorey escorted Mikleo to the inn tent and told the innkeeper that he would rest for a bit. Sorey sat next to the bedding, motioning for Mikleo to lay down on it. He knew seraphim didn’t have to sleep, but sleep—especially now—was a luxury that most people enjoyed, just like eating. If he could lure him into a good night’s sleep, then things would go smoothly.

“You’re not going to sleep?” Mikleo dubiously asked.

“I’m not really all that tired yet,” Sorey responded.

“Then I’ll stay up with you.”

“No, you need to rest. Truth be told, you’ve been looking pale these days. I can’t have my only seraph get sick…not when we could be attacked by Symonne and Maotelus.”

“S-Stop it, Sorey. Maotelus isn’t free. We’re safe.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Sorey conceded. Don’t get him riled up when you want him to sleep—that was his goal. To help Mikleo settle down for the night, Sorey pulled him to the bedding with him. He lay next to him even though it scared him a little. With Mikleo curling into his chest, he stroked his hair and arm gently until the seraph dozed off.

Sorey waited for a few minutes to make sure he was asleep. When he was, he quietly snuck out of the tent and made his way to monolith. He wished he had said specifically where he was going to meet Zaveid and Lailah, but part of him felt that they would come straight to where the iris gems would lead them.

Minutes became hours, making Sorey grow nervous. They hadn’t gotten killed, had they? He bit his lip. He didn’t want to be alone outside.

“Sorey!” Lailah called out. She was still in Zaveid’s arms on top of the massive wall that circled around Lohgrin.

“You made it!” Sorey said with relief. “Did you get the gems?”

“Yeah, but just barely,” Zaveid told him as he leapt less than gracefully from the top of the wall. Sorey noticed his leg. “I’ll be fine. Once we get this show on the road, we can worry about my leg.”

“I’m sorry,” Sorey apologized. “I shouldn’t have sent you after gems. You got hurt.”

“It’ll be fine. How’s Mik-boy?”

“He hasn’t hurt you or anything, has he?” Lailah asked.

“No, it’s actually the opposite. He’s sleeping in the inn tent right now, but…I don’t know how I should initiate it,” Sorey explained. His fears around him had gotten better, but that was simply because they hadn’t lusted for each other in a while due to the circumstances. When he reminded himself over the days that he would have to have sex with him, he always felt sick and apprehensive. “But…today we told each other that we loved each other, and I felt okay. I wasn’t scared of him.”

“So, you’re coming around,” Zaveid triumphantly smiled. “Just keep working at it.”

“Anyway, let’s put those gems into the monolith,” Lailah suggested. “They might help you calm down.”

“Somehow, I highly doubt that, but let’s go. We’re running out of time.”

Sorey led Lailah and Zaveid into the garden where the monolith stood. The iris gems immediately reacted, and the two seraphim put them into the final two indentations. All of the gems glowed with the monolith, and it seemed that they could view what records were held within them when they were ready to know the truth about everything. The iridescent stone was mystifying to say the least, and again it was calling to Sorey. The tainted Shepherd, no longer the ultimate hope of the people, reached for the stone. The scribbles of the ancient tongue shined.

“There you are!” Mikleo called from behind Sorey. Lailah and Zaveid instinctively fled into the foliage, frightened that he might have seen them. “Why did you leave me again?”

“You were supposed to be asleep,” Sorey calmly told him. He retracted his hand from the monolith to face him.

“I was until I felt you weren’t next to me anymore. I…I just want to stay close to you. Please, stop running away from me!”

Sorey backed into the monolith, the fear taking hold of his heart again. Upon touching the monolith, a light flashed. Everyone in the garden was paralyzed as they watched the events in the Earthen Historia flash before their eyes:

_Long ago, Lailah had disembarked on an adventure with the previous Shepherd. Even though they had shared many years together looking for the source of the malevolence, the Shepherd gave up his title. After trying to return the glove to her and dealing with her subsequent refusal, the Shepherd returned to his village named Camlann where he lived with pregnant sister. He spent his days writing about his journey—the ruins, the animals, the plants he had discovered. That became the Celestial Record. Soon, he was revered as a leader of the village, and his sister had her child._

_Far away, a new general was announced, and he led his troops into Camlann. He destroyed the village, sending it into a hell born on earth. His life was destroyed thereafter—his family and friends were murdered or turned into hellions. The general himself could not perish; he was forced to live with the agony of seeing everyone he loved die._

_The anguish and hatred and despair became too great after various attempts at suicide until finally one day he resigned himself to be torn apart by monsters. Unable to die even by their claws, the general succumbed to his grief. The Lord of Calamity was born, unleashing unto the world his anger and foolish righteousness. The Age of Chaos began anew, and hellions were born from the darkness in people’s hearts. They ran rampant in the world. Not long after death became an everyday occurrence, the Lord of Calamity made a pact with a fallen seraph, and together, they sought the destruction of man and the rebirth of the world. The Lord of Calamity found Maotelus the Great Lord, infected him with malevolence, and forced him to bond with him._

_Shepherd after Shepherd was instated to fight the hellions and the Lord of Calamity. The Shepherd who left Lailah for his family in Camlann…_

“What is this?” Mikleo fearfully asked. “What am I watching?”

“Is this our past?” Sorey asked, more stunned than afraid. “These events are…”

_Michael, the previous Shepherd, kidnapped his nephew, whom had been sickened by the sheer malevolence brought by the hatred the general had for Camlann. In a desperate move, Michael placed his child on the village altar and pierced his heart. A curse was placed on the general so that he may never die no matter how much he wanted to. Michael was killed, his sister Muse frantically trying to save her baby._

_It was only by chance that the Great Lightning Seraph Zenrus had ventured into the ruins in the following days of the raid. A premature baby that was close to death lay just outside of the rubble, his mother dead before him. Zenrus picked him up and healed him, and when he looked up, he found Muse limping to him, her baby’s blanket bloodied around the tiny corpse. She pleaded that the child be reborn as a seraph._

_Two miracle babies that came from the destruction of Camlann—one that had struggled to survive until he was found and one that had been wrongly sacrificed for the sake of revenge. They were named Sorey and Mikleo, and they would be raised as the new Shepherd and his beloved seraph._

The iris gems in the indentations stopped glowing. Lailah silently cried next to Zaveid; she had known about their past, and she had taken her oath to keep it hidden. While Sorey was astonished by the revelation, he worried about Mikleo. Mikleo had always hated human sacrifices, but what would happen now that he had learned he was a sacrifice himself? His own uncle had killed him for revenge! His uncle had given birth to the Lord of Calamity!

“Mikleo…?” Sorey uttered. He stepped towards him. “Are you okay?”

Mikleo fell to his knees with his hands pressed over his mouth. His voice erupted like a volcano from his chest, and his screams echoed into the night. He sobbed until Sorey finally touched him, when he became silent with grief. He was colder than normal.

“I’m sorry, Sorey…! I’m so sorry, _I’m so sorry!_ ” Mikleo sobbed. “I’m sorry for everything! I'm the reason this all happened! This is all my fault! Not just everyone’s death, but for the birth of Heldalf as a hellion—the Lord of Calamity! _This is all my fault!_ ”

Sorey gripped Mikleo’s arms and pulled up to stand, pleading him, “Stop saying that, Mikleo! This isn’t your fault; you were only a baby!”

Mikleo gripped at his hair, pulling at it in frustration. “Why was I born? Was I born just to be a sacrifice? Was I born to be turned into the monster that I am? Was I born to hurt you, the only one I’ve ever loved? Sorey, what is my life other than to be a source of suffering and misfortune? I never wanted things to go like this. I wanted to be happy with you, to explore ruins, to be by your side as your seraph. How can I be your support if I’m nothing but a magnet for death? My uncle—the previous Shepherd Michael—he sacrificed me— _me_ before I could even enjoy life with him and my mother. I was used to place a curse on Heldalf—I kept him from dying and he was so far deep in despair that he turned into the strongest hellion to ever exist in our time. I gave him the power to bind to Symonne and Maotelus. And it came full circle…Symonne—she had to have known all about this! That’s why she did this to me! That’s why she filled me with malevolence. Heldalf wanted revenge! He wanted revenge, and he made me no better than him. Don’t you understand?” Mikleo pushed Sorey away then hugged himself. He faltered backwards then continued, “Don’t you _understand_ , Sorey, my l-love? This was my destiny! I was meant to be a handicap, not a support! My uncle got it wrong; everyone did. They made me into this abominable monster to stop you. I killed everyone you loved—one way or another. It was retaliation. Heldalf used me to hurt you; he must have thought you were Michael’s son because you’re the Shepherd. I killed _everyone_ as part of an unspoken curse—Edna, Alisha, Sergei, Rose, all of the people in Pendrago, all of the people in Ladylake. And the worst of it is that…I r-raped you, Sorey. The malevolence that they gave me, the monster I became—it was all to hurt you even though I never wanted to do this to you. That’s why you can’t stand to be around me! I hurt you so deeply. I hurt you in the worst way imaginable. I took our love and soiled it…! I can’t even blame you for hating me now. All the times we exchanged lovely words and amorous glances—all of that is gone now…I killed everyone to get close to you, to protect you, to keep you from loving anyone else. But how can you even love me? I invaded your heart and body and mind. I want to die, Sorey…I just want to die so you never have to deal with me again. I want you to be happy, and if I could, I would take all the malevolence back. I would take it all back so you would be pure again, and you could save the world like you’re supposed to. I was blaming myself for your change in personality because I had forced you to do something I didn’t want you to do, but now I know that I should blame myself for everything that’s happened since we left Gramps. What do you think he would say? I mean, he knew we foolishly killed Heldalf, and there’s no doubt in my mind that something had happened between us; it’s so obvious to the world that you’re different now, but no one knows why because I’m invisible. I’m the epitome of evil, not you. I started the Age of Havoc, not you. You’re the new Lord of Calamity because of me.” Mikleo shakily walked up to Sorey. He took his hands and put them around his neck. “Please, Sorey. End my life. I don’t deserve to live, knowing that I had caused you all of this pain from the start. I can’t take back the malevolence, but surely you want to exact your revenge. I have sinned. I ruined your chances at a happy life. I know that killing a seraph makes everything worse, but…it’s my fault anyway. I won’t fight back. Even if it looks like I’m in pain or that I’m trying to get away, I’m resigned to dying.”

Sorey’s eyes widened, spilling tears endlessly. The grip on his wrists was so tight that he couldn’t pull away. He didn’t know what to say to him. He tried repeatedly to pull away his hands from the porcelain skin of the thin neck in his grasp.

“Please, Sorey! For once in your life, act on your hatred and kill me!”

Sorey snatched his hands away so forcefully that Mikleo lost his balance. He fell forward, bawling and begging him to punish him for his transgression.

“If strangling me is too personal, then stab me! Pierce my heart with your sword as many times as you want! Make me suffer just like I did to you!”

“ _No!_ ” Sorey finally screamed. He panted as he watched Mikleo shrink. “No, I’m not going to do that to you!”

“I’ve _hurt_ you! You’re human, it’s fine if you let hatred consume you! It’s justified!”

“It’s not justified!”

“I killed all of your friends! I forced myself onto you! I’ve made it impossible for you to return to Elysia! It’s okay to hate me! It’s okay to kill me!”

“Mikleo, stop this! Stop this right now! You’ve done nothing that would make me think of killing you!”

“I-If you won’t do it, then I’ll do it myself!”

Mikleo summoned an ice shard as sharp as he could make it. He prepared to slit his wrist all the way up his arm. He wanted to watch as he bled. He wanted to burn it into his soul that he had destroyed everything he loved.

“With this, I will set you free, Sorey!”

“Mikleo!” Zaveid and Lailah cried out from their hiding spot.

“ _Mikleo, stop!_ ” Sorey screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike the one chapter long ago, the next chapter won't be rape! :D I will admit though, that in my first play-through of the game, I actually got really confused by all the other Earthen Historia partly because I had missed a couple things in-game and in reality as far as the divulging of information about Heldalf went. Replaying the game now and rewatching the Earthen Historia clips on YouTube I think made me get on the right track.


	33. Monastery Sky over a Glasshouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To prevent Mikleo from doing anything drastic, Sorey decides that now is the best time to show him what love was like, but will it work to save them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I tried to take a different route from the normal lovemaking scene and again focused on emotion and feelings. Yeah, maybe detailing about all that goes on would make it more obvious what's going on, but I wanted to try something different to make it more like love instead of lust. Basically, experimenting with my writing! (And as such, smut proofer didn't read this, so here we go.) 
> 
> Songs of inspiration: Glasshouse with Butterfly (Machinarium OST--great puzzle game) and 伽藍の空 (Monastery Sky) by Noriko Mitose. Some little details taken from Junjou Egoist's library scene.

Mikleo and Sorey breathed hard. A thin line of red trickled from a pinpoint hole on the former’s wrist just under the Shepherd’s grasp. Sorey lay on top of his seraph on the ground, his eyes wide from the tension of watching his seraph’s suicide attempt. He pushed his hand up into Mikleo’s and squeezed it both reassuringly and desperately.

“Mikleo, please don’t do that ever again,” he quietly begged.

“Why…?” Mikleo whimpered with tears brimming from his eyes. “Why don’t you hate me after everything that I’ve done to you? I’ve done the absolute worst to you, yet you—”

“I know.”

“So why?”

Sorey sat up and pulled Mikleo close to him so that he could sit on his lap and hear his racing heart. The water seraph noticed that his master was shaking.

“You’ve done so many horrible things that would drive humans mad with rage. I’m hurt that you killed our friends. I’m scared of you because of what you did to my body and soul. But I also love you. I want to be with you forever because we’ve known each other for so long and have so many precious memories. The malevolence—the hopelessness, anger, hatred, despair—all of those feelings were forced onto you because I couldn’t protect you from Symonne. The Mikleo I know and love dearly wouldn’t have done those things of his own choice; the Mikleo I know and love is sitting here in front of me.”

“You can’t excuse all that I’ve done with the malevolence. I’ve sinned. The only reason those things happened was because I lost myself to the darkness. I wasn’t strong enough for you.”

“That’s why I’m trying to bring you back. I’m looking for the Mikleo that loved ice cream and exploring ruins with me. I’ve found him here.”

Mikleo tried to push himself out of his embrace. He was panicking, but Sorey refused to let him go. He begged him to release him even as he continued to talk to him:

“Like I said earlier, I will always love you.”

“That Mikleo is not here! I don’t deserve your innocent love! Please, just punish me! Run me through with your sword! Bludgeon me to death with a rock!”

“I’m sad that Edna, Alisha, Sergei, and Rose are gone; I’m not completely hopeless because without you, Mikleo, my world will end.”

Mikleo stopped struggling.

Lailah and Zaveid listened closely through the silence that had fallen on their friends.

Sorey faced his beloved seraph. Taking up his hand, intertwining their fingers, holding their hands between their chests so that the beats of their hearts transferred between them; he wanted him to know that his unfaltering feelings were real. Mikleo straddled him, lost in this mysterious and unknown realm.

What was love? Mikleo didn’t know; he only knew what it felt like to lust now. Perhaps long ago, he felt love, but it had been so long since he had experienced it, he wasn’t sure where his heart was. He wished fervently to know what it was like again, and he wanted Sorey to re-teach him. He wanted him to lead him down a pure white path to the light within him that was once his sanctuary. 

Sorey kissed his chastely, holding his cheek and neck gently as if Mikleo was indeed made of fine china porcelain; the water seraph was frightened to move as well because the gentleness seemed so fragile. He leaned his head to the side so that his neck could endure the kisses, but Sorey chased after him.

“I don’t want this to just be some frivolous moment,” Sorey whispered. “I want to show you that I will love you now and forever.”

Mikleo didn’t understand. Even as he undid his shirt and exposed his heaving chest, Sorey ignored it except for soft kisses right in the center where his heart lie. He squirmed, desperately trying to find the answer to his question.

How strange love was. Mikleo believed that everything Sorey was doing to show his love was an act and he would hurt him just like he had hurt the Gentle Shepherd in Trizolde Cave once he lowered his guard, yet he wanted to float on its feathered wings and absorb all he could handle. Even as his Shepherd deepened his kisses, there was no indication that it would be ravenous or painful or traitorous. How could something like this be so comforting?

Sorey pulled down his lover’s shirt just enough so that the nape of his neck was visible. “See? Love can both be painful and harmless,” he murmured to him. “You’ve shown me the painful side, so I want to show you how it can be painless, too.”

He kept kissing his quivering lips as he leaned forward so that Mikleo was lying down underneath him. The water seraph realized how vulnerable Sorey had been back then, and while he was scared of him now, imagining his tumultuous emotions multiplied tenfold made the tears that had been held back push through. How could he have done those things to him? He felt Sorey’s warm and forgiving lips touch his cheeks and eyelids like little butterflies. His heart pounded; it was all too good to be true, it had to be! Yet he was powerless to move. This love was like a sedative, making Mikleo dizzy and sleepy and lethargic. It was also like all his favorite sweets, filling him with the happiness and warmth that he had longed for ever since they fell together into the malevolence that had ruined their lives.

Still, it was ingrained into Mikleo’s head that he didn’t deserve Sorey’s love. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, hugging himself tight, and turned his face away. His heart wanted to leap into Sorey, but he wouldn’t allow it.

“Mikleo, what will it take for you to open up to me? How far do I have to go?” Sorey whispered to him.

“I can’t…I’m just too scared,” Mikleo almost inaudibly said.

“You can do it. Just believe in yourself.”

Sorey granted him one kiss on his neck to sate him before Mikleo turned his head back to him and trapped him in a kiss. In Sorey’s arms, he felt safe; he always did. He noticed Sorey’s knee pressed into him.

“Please tell me what you want. I want to satisfy you.”

Heat was pooling in their abdomens, and while Sorey was hoping he wouldn’t have to fully engage for the sake of keeping Mikleo anad himself calm, he was starting to lose his grip on himself. Mikleo simply reached down between them. He fiddled with their pants, unbuckling Sorey’s belt and unfastening the clasp on his own pants.

“I don’t know if this is right,” he mumbled. “But I just want you to be with me. I’ve been waiting for a moment like this, and it’s finally here, but I’m not sure what to do. I don’t want to mess up now.”

“It’s okay.”

At that moment, Mikleo found his answer. Love was like a butterfly inside of a glasshouse. It was gentle and kind and it didn’t have the strength to destroy its home. It helped all kinds of flowers bloom inside. It pollinated ugly flowers and beautiful flowers alike. After a little coaxing, Sorey’s butterfly had finally entered Mikleo’s glasshouse, and they danced together. The ugly flowers of hatred and anger were always going to bloom, but their butterflies worked together to help happiness and hope blossom to crowd them out.

Sorey carefully thrust into Mikleo knowing that he was still hesitant. It was the first time his body had truly felt like it was rightfully warm from Mikleo’s affection, and he wanted it to last as long as possible. Perhaps his love wasn’t as pure as he wanted it to be, still sullied by desirous feelings, but wasn’t that a part of the love that he and Mikleo shared? He knew that he wanted to be with him forever, and he knew now that things like these were going to happen between them every once in a while. He was happy for once to be so intimate with him; there was no more fear. He was free.

“S-Sorey…!” Mikleo wept, the intensity of their emotions nearing their climax. “I’m so sorry for everything…!”

“I forgive you, Mikleo…! Everything will be okay…!”

Sorey gripped one of Mikleo’s hands, giving it a tight but supportive squeeze as his light overtook both of them. Mikleo, surprised by its warmth, let out a choked yell that broke their kisses. As he began to relax slowly while basking in it, Sorey touched his forehead to his. The circlet that his seraph had always worn was between them, and it shined in the moonlight.

They gradually slowed down while still kissing and holding each other. The butterflies flitted about in the garden of the monolith. Sorey finally pulled out of Mikleo just as cautiously as he had pushed inside of him. He hovered over him on all fours to get one last look at those precious violet eyes before they closed for the night.

“Sorey, I really, truly love you,” Mikleo sleepily crooned.

“I love you, too, Mikleo, from the bottom of my heart. That will never, ever change,” Sorey replied.

The water seraph fell soundly asleep underneath his beloved Shepherd, so Sorey quietly dressed himself. He felt a relief, which he hoped was from helping to purify Mikleo and himself. He beckoned Lailah and Zaveid out of their hiding spot. Both of them were still blushing, but Lailah herself was in tears.

“That was so beautiful! I never would have guessed that intimacy between humans and seraphim could be this lovely!” she sighed.

“It took a lot of effort to keep her from gasping and making all kinds of other sounds,” Zaveid muttered.

Sorey chuckled. He was happy to feel a weight be lifted from his shoulders. He hoped that Mikleo would feel like his old self when he woke up. He was also curious to know how they were going to tell if he was purified or not.

“Maybe wait and see what happens with Mikleo?” Lailah said. “The hints didn’t really tell us what to do after, so we’ll have to play by ear now.”

***

Sorey rested next to Mikleo for the night while Zaveid and Lailah took the time to admire the garden and the monolith it housed. It was a blessing to see that even a tiny speck such as that place could continue to bloom in those dark times. Hope was revived in them, and they couldn’t wait to see if the method of reinstating purity in the Shepherd and his beloved water seraph worked.

“I’ve read my share of intimate novels in my spare time, but I never thought it was as beautiful as the love between Sorey and Mikleo,” Lailah cooed. Her hands framed her face as she remembered every moment that they breathed and whispered into each other. “If only I had someone to love me like that—not that I would care much. Seraphim in and of themselves have no need for such feelings no matter how wonderful they might be. Though I do know a few seraphim that have fallen in love…”

“Yet here you are fawning over it,” Zaveid criticized even though she was wrapped up in her thoughts. “I’ve caught wind of so many affairs between humans that I’m actually surprised that Sorey could be so heartfelt with his proclamations. But aside from that, if you keep gawking over them like that, you’re going to see more and more like a deviant.”

“That’s what you call projection!”

Zaveid was somewhat insulted, but he let it slide. It had been a while since they really felt at ease and had the room to joke around. He wished they could spend the moment with Edna and the others, but he was sure that they would be happy to know that Sorey and Mikleo would be back to normal.

A few hours passed until Mikleo stirred. Lailah and Zaveid greeted him in the morning only to be horrified by what they had found. They couldn’t even begin to say how they felt seeing him. In fact, even the wretched water seraph was at a loss for words.

At first, Lailah was afraid that he would attack them. Upon closer inspection, the bloodlust in the alexandrite eyes was gone, replaced by regret and disbelief. He reached out to her, recoiling when his worst fear had been exposed from under his sleeve to the morning sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!
> 
> Yeah, once again a not-so-happy ending to a happy-ish chapter. But we can all agree that Lailah does ship Sorey and Mikleo, right? (There was a Tumblr page and a few jokes that pointed out that she ships them XD)


	34. Dashed Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikleo reveals his secret to Sorey, making for a terrible turn of events. Symonne attacks Elysia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually drew a fanart of Sorey and Mikleo during the beginning of the chapter, and...a friend had seen it. It wasn't anything bad, but without the context, it'd be strange, y'know? Through in a little comic relief because...well, explorers!

Mikleo stared hopelessly at the cerulean scales that covered his hands and wrists. His pupils had become slits. Opening his shirt, there were blue and white scales in patches on his torso. When Sorey roused next to him, he quickly closed his shirt, but he couldn’t do anything about his hands. He thought about running away to some secluded place in the Zaphgott Moor so his lover wouldn’t have to see the beginnings of a dragon.

“Good morning, Mikleo,” Sorey hummed as he sat up to hug him. Then he noticed how withdrawn he had become. “Do you still feel awkward from last night?”

Mikleo furiously shook his head.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Lailah gently touched Sorey’s shoulder; the malevolence oozing from him hadn’t decreased. This alone was enough to frighten her. Their hard work had been for naught.

“Lailah, what’s wrong?”

Mikleo couldn’t take it anymore. He slowly turned around. First his cheek, then his whole face and neck, then his hands, and finally he put his chest on display. Sorey’s heart broke as he dragged himself up close to him. Not believing what was before him, he touched the leathery, scaly skin. He was distraught, pulling away Mikleo’s shirt and almost going for his pants to see if the scales were everywhere on him. The only thing that stopped him was Mikleo’s terrified expression. He held his face. He wiped away Mikleo’s tears, but he couldn’t stop the flow of his own. His mouth hung open then quiet sobs and wheezes escaped him.

“No. No, no, no…!” Sorey wept. “Didn’t we do it right? I’ve forgiven you, and…I’m not afraid of you anymore! Why did this happen?”

“It was a failure…” Zaveid mumbled. He swung his fist behind him in frustration.

“What did we miss?” Lailah asked herself.

Mikleo held Sorey’s hands to his cheeks. “It’s my fault again,” he gulped. “You may forgive me, but I can’t forgive myself. In reality, this has been happening for a long time; I didn’t want to worry you, so I kept it hidden, but now there’s no point. I’m going to turn sooner or later. If I do, please don’t hesitate to kill me, okay?”

Lailah didn’t want to hear him talk like that, and she certainly didn’t want any more of her friends dying. She cursed herself for allowing such events to happen.

“No, there has to be a way to save you!” Sorey bargained.

“You saw what happened to Edna; her transformation was instant! I’ve been trying so hard to stop it, but I can’t!” Mikleo cried.

Zaveid clenched his teeth at the thought of having to move on with Mikleo in the state he was in. He thought that maybe if they could stop Symonne and Maotelus, that would help with things. It wouldn’t be easy, however, especially since Mikleo was already well on his way to becoming a dragon. With Mikleo as he was now, both he and Lailah regretted leaving Sorey’s side. They were a closed circuit of malevolence, and if Mikleo did successfully turn, then Sorey would turn into a hellion. If Maotelus were to catch Sorey as a hellion, there was a great chance that the world would be destroyed.

“What do we do?” Sorey asked. He gently touched the scales again as if to verify one more time that things had turned for the worse. “We can’t fight against Symonne like this.”

Lailah and Zaveid knew that going after Symonne would get them all killed, but there was no other option at this point. The main objective was to get Mikleo as far away from Lohgrin as possible so he didn’t accidentally kill people. On top of that, where would she even go? There was nowhere else to cause destruction on a large scale, but if she was searching for Sorey and Mikleo, where else would she go but to their home? They knew that couldn’t take them back to Zenrus; he would reluctantly have to fulfill his duty as the village chief and put them down. Sorey and Mikleo weren’t opposed to going to Elysia. In fact, they wanted to see Zenrus one more time before Mikleo had to accept his fate and become a dragon.

The Shepherd and his water seraph knew the repercussions of going back to where they exiled, and something inside them told them that it would probably be better to let their dear Gramps finish them off as hellions.

“Do you think we could find Camlann?” Lailah thought aloud.

“Why would we want to go there?” Zaveid asked her. “That place is worse than out here. You saw what happened in the Earthen Historia—all those people were massacred. Sorey and Mikleo’s mothers were slaughtered.”

“Mikleo’s mother was spared. If we can talk to her, maybe we can help Mikleo.”

“What don’t you understand?” Mikleo questioned in frustration. Sorey hugged him tightly, silencing him for the time being.

“There’s no guarantee that she’s still alive,” Zaveid continued. “Let’s talk to Zenrus. He knows more about these two than Mikleo’s mom.”

It hurt to be talked about like pets, but Sorey and Mikleo had to agree that was the best course of action. The four of them set out to leave Lohgrin without a trace. The sudden disappearance of the Shepherd would result in despair in the last remaining humans, but at this point, it didn’t matter. Sorey had already lost whatever little hope he had for himself after seeing that his love couldn’t defeat the malevolence brewing in Mikleo’s heart.

They crossed the Zaphgott Moor, Sorey keeping his eye on Mikleo in case the effects of the evilness spewing from the environment around them caused any problems for him. There were a few times within the moor alone where the water seraph faltered or nearly passed out. Lailah tried to use her Imbuement on him, but it only seemed to make things worse. Zaveid rifled through his pockets for anything that could help, and he had only a couple of apple gels that he had found along the way to the shrines. When they reached the threshold of the moor just before the Great Camelot Bridge, Mikleo asked everyone to stop for a moment.

“Do you need a break?” Sorey asked him. He offered to carry him on his back.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Mikleo almost whimpered. “I’m sorry for everything, and I really appreciate that you’re trying to help us.”

Lailah was about to say something, but Zaveid interrupted her:

“Stop sounding like you’re about to drop dead on us. You’re a friend, and more importantly, you’re Sorey’s only rock that’s keeping him from turning into a hellion. Once we get you purified, you two can get yourselves a nice house with a marble stone fence and apologize to each other all you want. Until then, we’ll continue to view you two as our companions and help you as much as we can.”

Sorey appreciated Zaveid’s somewhat insensitive encouragement. He held onto Mikleo’s hand, intertwining their fingers. The water seraph felt like he was safe for the first time in what felt like an eternity, but…

They crossed the Great Camelot Bridge. Once they were in Pearloats Pasture, Zaveid began to limp. With all the excitement of Sorey and Mikleo finally consummating their love for each other, he had forgotten how badly it had gotten damaged in the fight with the Titan. They took a break again for Lailah to see to the injury. Sorey felt guilty for it since he had asked them to find the iris gems, but Zaveid insisted that it was his own recklessness in battle that he had gotten himself injured in battle.

Traversing Pearloats Pasture past the wreckage of Pendrago into the Meadows of Triumph, Sorey began to blush. He glanced at Mikleo from the corner of his eye.

“U-Um, Mikleo?” he bashfully said.

“What is it?” Mikleo replied.

“How did you feel about the other night?”

Zaveid and Lailah kept walking, but they couldn’t believe that they were talking about the ritual. Both of them eavesdropped, awaiting the details like they would await a juicy steak.

“It was fine, but you definitely could have gotten a little more…rambunctious. We’re explorers and adventurers, you know. That applies to the bed as well.”

“I-I see! Then when this is all over—”

“What are you giggling about up there?!” Mikleo snapped at Zaveid and Lailah, whom were trying their damnedest not to laugh. “W-We’re…we’ve confessed to each other, alright?! This stuff…is n-normal!”

They passed through the ghost town of Lastonbell and through the Volgran Forest to Lamorak Cave. They didn’t want to pass through the Glaivend Basin for the sake of not throwing Lailah and Zaveid into a malevolence pit. The cave itself wasn’t devoid of it, but there was significantly less in it.

They came to the Bors Ruins then out into the Falkewin Hillside. Seeing the Rayfalke Spiritcrest hurt Mikleo deeply because he remembered his first transgression against his friends. When he stopped in front of it, he asked Sorey to see the shrine up there near the summit. Zaveid wondered if that was such a good idea since Eizen still lived there, but Mikleo insisted. Edna and he were always fighting, but he felt that maybe there was a part of her that was glad to be friends with him. Even if he couldn’t go up to the shrine, he sat on his knees at the foot of the mountain.

“Edna,” he started. “Along with Rose and Alisha and Sergei—I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to hear me.” He went down to a whisper so Sorey couldn’t hear him. “My time is almost up. You’ll have retribution.”

They crossed the narrow bridge to Lakehaven Heights and rounded the corner to the entrance of the Aroundight Forest. Sorey felt sick after remembering how he had tortured the hellions in the forest. Now it was Mikleo’s turn to give him reassurance. He let go of his hand, instead wrapping his arms around his Shepherd’s torso like he was going to guide him through it.

Zaveid and Lailah speculated on them. It was endearing to see them support each other through their recent past, but they noticed that Mikleo didn’t look too happy about it. There was no doubt he wanted to be there with Sorey, but they could sense his apprehension and regret was starting to build up as they got closer to Elysia. Or perhaps it wasn’t his feelings bubbling up but the destructive domain that had fallen over Elysia which made them all sick and fatigued. It was so heavy that they could barely move through it.

“What the hell is this domain?” Zaveid choked. “I…I can’t even breathe…”

“We must have found Symonne and Maotelus! Our hunch was right!” Lailah shouted over the howling winds and rumbling thunder.

“You mean you had planned to take us here?” Sorey inquired.

“Did you set us up?” Mikleo added.

“No, we were trying to anticipate her moves!” Zaveid yelled as loud as he could. The trees over them sounded like a horde of screaming cicadas. “Damn it, I hope we’re not too late!”

Sorey’s heart felt like it was going to explode; the domain was too much for his body to bear. It was Maotelus’s domain, and while he had thought that being the Lord of Calamity would make him impervious to it, he was scared to think that such a domain had the power to rip him to pieces.

“I don’t get it!” Sorey yelled. “Why is the domain affecting me if I’m the Lord of Calamity?!”

“Simply because you’re actually _not_ ,” Symonne’s voice calmly said. “Glad you could join us, Kind and Gentle Shepherd. Maybe you’re not so kind and gentle anymore, but ‘wicked’ and ‘ruinous’ don’t sound right quite yet.”

Mikleo glared up at her from his place on the ground. His hatred was bolstered by his own malevolence and that inside the domain. He wished fervently to kill her with his bare hands. He forced himself from the ground even though it crushed him. He armatized with Sorey, and their combined being chased after her. Lailah and Zaveid were left behind, unable to follow them.

“We’ve got to stop them!” Lailah struggled.

“If they kill Symonne while she’s with Maotelus…!” Zaveid growled.

Sorey and Mikleo, housed in one body, braved the burning heat of the heart of the domain. They didn’t know what to expect. Was Zenrus still alive? Was Elysia safe or destroyed? Had she already established her mark on their home? Their hearts raced together, their worries flooding their minds, their fear growing in their souls. The black clouds hanging over Elysia were ominous, and they prayed with all their heart that everyone in Elysia was safe.

“Come and see for yourselves what you’ve done to the world!” Symonne antagonized.

Sorey and Mikleo stopped before the gate to Elysia stricken with horror. Maotelus stood in the center of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, we're getting another build up! What will come of the clashes between Symonne and Sorey, Maotelus and Mikleo?


	35. Oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey and Mikleo take on Symonne and Maotelus, but things take a turn for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here begins the descent to the end. If you're familiar with TellTale Waking Dead, you know how Kenny was about Duck? Apply that to Sorey about Mikleo. Inspirational song for this chapter: Oblivious by Kalafina

Maotelus towered over the debris of Elysia and the only seraph that was out there fighting him back away from his home. Zenrus called forth his lightning bolts with the hope that they were strong enough to burn or even paralyze the Great White Dragon. But he had been severely wounded, and he wasn’t sure how much strength he had left.

“How dare you come here, hellion!” he roared at the dragon that stood to eat him. “Regardless of who you are, I shall not let you destroy this place! Begone!”

“Gramps, we’re coming!” Sorey and Mikleo called out to him. They shot a flurry of arrows at Maotelus’s head in an effort to pull his attention from their caretaker. 

Switching between hidden artes and seraphic artes, Sorey and Mikleo lured the gigantic beast away from Zenrus, giving the old seraph an opening to give him a strong enough shock to stun him for a short moment. Maotelus stepped on the broken stones that were their homes and playrooms from when they were small children. His tail demolished the hill that stemmed from the small pool of water.

 _“Sorey, we’ve got to get him out of here,”_ Mikleo said.

“But how?” Sorey responded. He narrowly dodged a swipe.

“Lightning, hear my call!” Zenrus commanded. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky then struck Maotelus.

Sorey, knowing that Maotelus was after him, decided that he was to be bait if the seraphim they considered family was to make it out alive. He would lure him to the clearing outside of the village, which would give Zenrus time to evacuate the surviving seraphim from his home to somewhere else safer. He leapt to the village entrance.

“What are you doing, boy?!” Zenrus yelled. “This beast is—”

“Gramps, I know you don’t want to see me or Mikleo,” Sorey began. “We were exiled for everyone’s safety, and you have no reason to trust in us after all that we’ve done. But we need you more than ever now. We’re going to lure Maotelus away; use that time to get everyone to safety!”

With that, he fired arrow after arrow at the dragon. He bellowed and taunted him, pestered him with his arrows again, and even risked separating from Mikleo show that two young targets were better than one old target. Maotelus sensed the malevolence in both of them, and he inched towards them. At the same time, Zenrus’s power was equally attractive. But he knew that only one of them would benefit him. The Great White Dragon rushed after Sorey and Mikleo with a bloodlust that neither of them had ever felt before from Heldalf or Symonne. Mikleo armatized again with his Shepherd. Once Maotelus was far enough from Elysia and close enough to them, Sorey unleashed his Mystic Arte Aqua Limit. The dragon roared in rage.

“Now, now! Again with the tag-teaming?” Symonne cackled. She appeared behind Sorey, kicking him down and keeping him pinned with her seraphic artes. “Maotelus, dear, I’ve got dinner for you!”

Sorey struggled, but even with Mikleo’s strength added on top his, he couldn’t move. If he tried to push himself up, a crushing weight on his back pushed him back down. He couldn’t even de-armatize to protect Mikleo.

 _“We have to spread out!”_ Mikleo coughed.

“But if we do, you’ll be in danger!” Sorey wheezed.

_“I’m sorry; this is going to hurt.”_

Mikleo forced himself out of Sorey. To him, it was a tug on his sleeve, but for Sorey, it felt like being run over by a caravan in that state. The Shepherd was paralyzed for a brief moment, but he was still conscious.

Now it was Mikleo versus Symonne, and Mikleo had to protect Sorey from Maotelus. He was nervous—scared even—but he had finally repented for his wrongdoings. He didn’t feel like he was completely forgiven nor did he want to be. He just wanted a chance to protect the one he held dear from his greatest threat.

Symonne conjured up several illusory clones to attack him while ordering Maotelus to go for the Shepherd. Mikleo used his Ice Lancer Arte to pierce through the majority of the clones, but a couple slipped past him. They punched and kicked him together, but he refused to back down.

“Violet Storm!” he cried out. A whirlwind of flaming violet petals and water shot up from the ground under Maotelus. “Violet Storm! Violet Storm!”

Whirlwind after whirlwind, Mikleo was relentless in his assault. He whacked Symonne away as much as he could whether or not it was her clones. He built up a dome of ice around Sorey; he was going to have to up his offense if he wanted him to come out in one piece.

Symonne divided her clones into teams—four tried to break through the ice dome so Maotelus could kill Sorey and six focused on Mikleo so he couldn’t interfere. She was going to have her way whether or not the monster she created was going to follow in her footsteps. Mikleo was still a force to be reckoned with, but that was what made the fight entertaining and not that much more difficult.

He headed into the crowd of clones with little regard for his own safety. He didn’t care what atrocities she did to him as long as she couldn’t get to Sorey. Part of him knew that there was a possibility of the ice dome weakening if he were knocked out or even killed, yet therein laid his incentive to stay alive.

He took the beatings from Symonne, clubbing each clone until a good number of her reinforcements surrounded him. He was saving his energy to fight the Great White Dragon head-on; however, it didn’t seem like he was going to be able to do that. He leapt away from the clones that were ganging up on him. He initiated his Mystic Arte Rime Slaughter, and while he was subsequently drained, he felt good about getting rid of a decent amount of the clones.

That is until the ice dome melted from Maotelus’s flames.

“No!” Mikleo cried out.

Maotelus loomed over the weighted Shepherd, his giant maw slowly opening, like a castle gate, to swallow him. The sharp teeth glistened from the lightning in the cloudy skies above. For once, Sorey could predict what his death was going to be—a gloppy mess of ground bone and meat with bits and pieces of his clothes mixed in or perhaps he would be pierced from his head to his crotch with teeth. Any way he fathomed his demise, he was compelled to curl into a ball and beg for mercy out of primal fear.

Symonne and everyone had thought that he was the Lord of Calamity until the fallen seraph had realized otherwise. It wasn’t something to take pride in, but even now before his imminent death, Sorey realized that the true Lord of Calamity towered over him and Elysia, and he needed a vessel of some sort.

Maotelus lunged for Sorey. There was a brief moment in which gusts of wind would have pushed him back if he weren’t pressed into the ground. When he opened his eyes, he found Mikleo using every bit of the strength he had left to create a barrier of ice and seraphic power to hold the dragon back. To think that he had enough power to defend against him!

“M-Mikleo…!” Sorey gasped.

“I won’t let you hurt him! Once we quell Maotelus…Sorey can purify the world!” Mikleo reassured. “Even if you don’t have Lailah, I believe that you can!”

Maotelus pushed against the barrier that had grown to his size and curled over him like a baseball glove. The sheer force was too heavy for Mikleo to take, yet the water seraph refused to give up. He hoped that once Zenrus had gotten everyone to safety he would come back to help them. They were out of options except to delay the inevitable.

Mikleo didn’t realize that in his struggle with Maotelus that he shed tears knowing that, for the first time in months, he was genuinely happy that he was serving his purpose to the Shepherd. It felt like he was truly atoning for his sins.

“You such a foolish little boy, aren’t you?” Symonne giggled. She teleported between them, looked back at Sorey, and in clear view stabbed Mikleo in the chest with her wand. Infecting him with as much malevolence as she could inject into his heart, she smirked, “No matter what, you can never stop a dragon without killing it.”

She ripped the wand out of him. The ice barrier shattered; Maotelus relented at Symonne’s command.

“What?” Mikleo tearfully uttered before things went dark and he collapsed before Sorey.

Symonne dispelled her clones, jumping on Maotelus’s foot and ordering that they leave so Sorey could mourn his truly fallen seraph. The domain around Elysia disappeared, and soon enough Lailah and Zaveid came running from Aroundight Forest. They found Sorey cradling Mikleo. Zenrus and his followers came out of hiding; a few of the seraphim were injured. Everyone was silent.

“S-Sorey…?” Mikleo whispered and cried. “Did I do well? Did I protect you?” It took more effort than normal to touch his cheek. “Is Maotelus gone? Are Gramps and the others safe?”

Sorey held his hand to his cheek, replying through his tears, “You were amazing, Mikleo! You were so strong!”

Mikleo gave him a small soft smile before cringing and writhing in pain from the wound in his chest. He panted and gulped and clung to Sorey’s cloak. Whether it was from the shock or the malevolence was finally tipping over in his body, he had never felt so close to death—at least, that’s what it felt like. It felt lonely and cold similar to the desolate environment of Rayfalke Spiritcrest. He pressed into Sorey’s body for the comfort he had wanted since they’d fallen together.

“Lailah, Zaveid! We have to do something! We can’t let him turn into a dragon!”

Lailah shook her head. She already knew there was nothing that could be done to save Mikleo. In a matter of minutes, he was going to turn into a dragon, and she was afraid that they would have to put him down.

“Sorey, when Mikleo turns, please leave him to us,” she solemnly said.

“I can’t just leave him!”

“Kid, he’s going to kill everyone in the area if we leave him be,” Zaveid countered.

“He…He won’t. I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

Something strange began to happen. As Mikleo began to transform in front of Sorey, Sorey began to transform as well. His pupils became slits, and ram horns grew and curled from his head. A long demon tail poked from under the cloak. His teeth became sharp. Underneath his clothes, his core began to break down into pure malevolence even though his face and extremities still looked human save for the claws that replaced his nails. Ultimately, they could still tell it was him but not stand too close to him.

Mikleo’s transformation was similar to Edna’s except the circlet he always wore was embedded into his skin. He was a small dragon at first that slowly grew to size. He stood up behind Sorey, and even though he was compelled to eat everyone in the vicinity, Sorey’s powerful domain kept him under control while bringing everyone else to their knees.

Zenrus held back the tears as he watched the two he always saw as sons reach the ultimate point in degradation. Sorey left with Mikleo without saying a word. Lailah and Zaveid pardoned themselves in the lightning seraph’s presence to follow after them.

Neither of them had ever seen anything like it—a hellion that managed to make a dragon docile; at the same time, Lailah wondered if Mikleo still had a handle on his mind. It was true that Sorey was exuding dominance over him—a calm and calculating dominance similar to Heldalf’s most likely attributed to the rage and hatred he felt for Symonne. When they had reached the entrance to Aroundight Forest, Sorey commanded Mikleo to let him ride on his back. Lailah and Zaveid, just barely holding onto their sense of self and not letting the malevolence into them, watched from below.

“Do you two want a ride? Mikleo and I are going to pay Symonne a visit,” Sorey said in a low, serious voice.

“Actually…can you walk with us?” Lailah carefully asked. “I-If Symonne sees you in the sky, she’ll try and shoot you down. You and…Mikleo…could get hurt.”

Sorey slid off of Mikleo, patting his head like a dog before sending him above them. He kept him chained by their pact then led Lailah and Zaveid through the forest to Lakehaven Heights while the fire and wind seraphim tried to talk to him.

“Sorey, do you think it’s a good idea to get revenge?” Zaveid asked him. “You’ve already turned into a hellion.”

“I’ll avenge Mikleo,” Sorey growled.

“But you know that Mikleo can’t return to normal,” Lailah stated.

“I will find a way. He will show me.”

“It’s never been done!”

Sorey suddenly spun around with deadly bloodlust in his eyes. Had it not been for the fact he still cared for Lailah and Zaveid, he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill her. After all he had nothing else left to lose now that Mikleo was a dragon.

Zaveid stood in front of Lailah, serving as her shield. He couldn’t afford for tensions to rise now that Sorey could barely stop himself from lashing out. He promised to him that they wouldn’t do anything to Mikleo only if he allowed them to help him fight against Symonne. It didn’t make a difference to Sorey; he simply wanted to make Symonne pay for her actions and live peacefully with Mikleo for the rest of their lives. With that agreement, Zaveid read the stale wind for any clues about the enemy’s whereabouts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a weak ending at the very last second, but I had to cut it off for the next chapter. That said, I thought this was actually pretty intense considering that I don't think I'm very good at writing combat (trying to change that). And it seems like this fanfiction will actually span into the next semester!


	36. The Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey brings Lailah and Zaveid along to track down Symonne. This is the beginning of the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, didn't know how to start the chapter other than some analyses and dropping in some physics and chemistry and psychology maybe some biology--all the science allusions.

Zaveid’s reading gave them a trail to follow but no definite status on Symonne or Maotelus. It merely seemed that she was purposely flying around the continent to confuse them, probably to get an advantage over them. Sorey thought it would have been better to fly on Mikleo, but even in his insensitivity, he acknowledged that Lailah and Zaveid wouldn’t have survived sitting on his back for hours on end.

Lailah and Zaveid would have been okay with riding on the dragon’s back if it meant that Sorey would have been happier, but realistically thinking, the malevolence would burn them considerably. Lailah, particularly, was worried about his well-being after watching Mikleo turn. Similar to Heldalf who had lost his loved ones to murder, Sorey was forced to watch everyone he loved succumb to the malevolence in some sort of way. Mikleo was the final straw before everything fell apart. But now revenge was driving Sorey; any hope for purity was long gone at this point especially since the method from the shrines didn’t work.

To Sorey, Mikleo turning into a dragon was the same as him being taken hostage like a damsel in a tower. The tower itself, now a living organism corrupted by malevolence, was perpetually tormenting him. The wicked tendrils were invading him from every orifice in his body. Naturally, Sorey sympathized with his dear seraph; he knew what it felt like to be molested. In respect to how long Mikleo now had to endure it, though, he couldn’t imagine it. Part of the brunet wished he could peer into his soul—both wanting to see him being tortured as recompense for what he had done yet wanting to liberate him from the hell inside of him. The despair that he felt seeping from Mikleo’s soul made things worse as far as placing himself in his situation. The helplessness that paralyzed his arms and legs, the depravity that protruded between his legs, the anxiety that it would last for eternity—it brought tears to those leopard-jasper eyes. Mikleo hadn’t suffered the psychological damage that Sorey had, and Sorey wished that he didn’t have to.

Yet perhaps all the doom and gloom was self-imposed. Maybe Mikleo wasn’t in pain at all but in a paradise in which his needs were constantly satisfied. After all, was it not his lust and jealousy that drove him to such a sorry state? Didn’t Sorey’s rage contribute to the evilness that had stewed in him for months after meeting Heldalf and Symonne at Aifread’s Hunting Grounds? This was exactly what Mikleo wanted, and even if he was a dragon now, he definitely fulfilled every whim he had with Sorey beside him.

Then he remembered the small child that had stayed with them ever since that day in Trizolde Cave. That same child was held in a cage. He was safe from the prying hands of the malevolence deep inside, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Just because he was a dragon didn’t mean that the malevolence wasn’t ever increasing. If they waited too long to solve the present mystery of saving a dragon, that small child was going to eaten by darkness. Sorey couldn’t allow that to happen.

It all came down to the beginning of the Age of Havoc and the propagator of it. He had to kill Symonne even if it meant he would never come back from where he was now. He would get his revenge. He would make sure she knew how much pain she caused for everyone. He would show her no mercy.

“Mikleo!” Sorey called out suddenly, startling his other seraphim.

The dragon immediately landed before him, and Sorey roughly grabbed his head and pushed his forehead to him. Zaveid and Lailah exchanged glances, unsure what to think of this behavior.

“I won’t let her get away,” Sorey promised him. “I will find her, and I’ll kill her just for you, my love.”

“Somehow I feel relationships aren’t supposed to be like this,” Zaveid half-joked.

He had a reason to feel uneasy about their relationship. He was wary of Sorey’s erratic behavior—one moment quiet and frightened, the next moment bloodthirsty and callous. Such unpredictability was a dangerous thing to have so close by. Such unpredictability gave rise to more malevolence.

Mikleo was calm. Unlike Eizen, whose mind was destroyed by the malevolence he accumulated over the centuries, he wasn’t insane yet. Sorey could keep him under control, but he was also still bound to him, too. The connection between them was a circuit, circling the malevolence between them while constantly adding more to it like an open system. Which one would give into the influence first? Only time and Sorey’s actions would tell. Yet it went without saying that even if Mikleo seemed calm—docile even—he was still being tortured on the inside. Just as Sorey surmised, his soul was in a hell created from his own mind. It was bare to evil; and it made Lailah wonder—if Mikleo were to perish at the hands of Symonne and Maotelus, would his soul turn into a phantom? Either way, as some sort of hellion, he was doomed to a tortured existence of immortality and insatiable hunger.

Sorey kept holding onto Mikleo’s head, and Lailah and Zaveid weren’t sure if he was still conscious because he was so still. When he finally let him go, they saw a flicker of genuine love in his eyes before he sent him off above them again.

“Zaveid, have you found where that wretched seraph went?” Sorey asked with an edge that he’d never had before. They were in the Meadows of Triumph.

“It seems she’s closer to Pendrago, maybe over by Aifread’s Hunting Grounds again,” he responded. His head ached from trying to sense farther out into the sea of malevolence that washed over the continent. “At least, it feels like she went there, but I’m not 100-percent sure.”

“God damn it, we don’t have time for this!” Sorey growled.

***

As it turned out, Symonne had been to the hunting grounds but only for a few moments. Her plan was to confuse them, as they had thought. She had always been one to mess with her enemies’ heads, and if she could annoy Sorey enough, she had no doubt that she could bend him to her will. If she could trick him into cornering himself with his puny dragon, then Maotelus would have a feast. The malevolence from both of them would give him enough power to wipe the continent from the face of the world.

“It’s only a matter of time before you can have him,” she cooed. “Though I think it’ll be more fitting if we kill them where their destinies became intertwined.”

Far off in Pearloats Pasture, Zaveid caught the wind changing its current and scent. He stopped Sorey and Lailah, pointing in the opposite direction of the hunting grounds. At first he thought that she was going back to Elysia to antagonize further, but there was another feeling. A familiar feeling—

“The winds point to Camlann,” he said.

“Camlann? Why would she go there unless…that’s where Heldalf was planning to go?” Lailah hypothesized.

“It would make sense since Camlann was where the Age of Chaos started, and…”

“Camlann is Mikleo’s and my birthplace. How dare she walk that ground!” Sorey cursed. 

Every second he thought about Symonne bouncing to different places, he seethed more and more. Now that she was going to the village where he was orphaned, where Mikleo was sacrificed, where an entire village lay in ruin; he wanted to rip her apart as slowly as he could. It was her fault that things had gotten as bad as they did.

Sorey called down Mikleo, boarding him without a second thought for Lailah and Zaveid. He wanted to meet her there—no, to intercept her so he would have the advantage. She had to die. His blade had to pierce her ugly little heart!

“Sorey, you mustn’t go like this!” Lailah begged him. “You’ll turn into a mutant hellion at this rate! Please!”

Sorey and Mikleo sped off without them, and Zaveid had no choice but to scoop Lailah into his arms. He was much faster than her; he could keep with them even if just barely.

As Sorey flew on Mikleo’s back, he calmed down for a moment as he thought he felt the child’s hands around his waist. He was scared and clinging to him for his life. He was simultaneously afraid to be close to Sorey.

“Mikleo?” Sorey softly and gently uttered.

“Do you think this is the right thing to do? Do you think this will make him feel better?” the child asked.

“There’s no other way to stop Symonne. I’ll kill her first then I’ll kill Maotelus. I will purify Mikleo even if it means I should die; I will make him the next Great Lord.”

“Is that what he wants?”

“There’s nothing else left to do!”

“Your family in Elysia is still alive.”

“I’ve come too far now to return to them!”

The child Mikleo said no more.

Sorey felt he might have been too rough with the small boy despite rationalizing that it had to be that way to ensure his safety. Mikleo the dragon was in the same position. If he didn’t stop Symonne and effectively cease the flow of malevolence from her, they would never be happy. He lightly touched the scales on his neck as he remembered the times where they had been together without apprehension. Mikleo’s skin had been so smooth and soft; his eyes, no matter how tainted, were kind. There had to be a way to save him from his draconic form.

When they arrived at Elysia, the hellion Shepherd led the way to the Mabinogio Ruins. The stench of Symonne’s malevolence was strong enough for him to follow, but the problem was getting Mikleo down into the ruins with him. Part of him didn’t particularly care anymore about the archaeological playground they had discovered when they were children, yet he didn’t want them to be destroyed because of those memories.

“Sorey, wait!” Zaveid panted behind him after letting Lailah down. He had pushed himself through the domain created by Maotelus, which rendered him exhausted. “You can’t take Mikleo down there.”

“Give me ten reasons why I shouldn’t,” Sorey requested. “Besides that he’s far too big.”

“This is serious,” Lailah added. “The amount of malevolence from these ruins is on par with yours if not greater. If you and Mikleo go down there—”

“We’re already hellions, so what does it matter?”

“It will get worse! If there’s any hope to save you, it’ll be gone if you go down there.”

Sorey had had enough of them trying to stop him from confronting Symonne. He didn’t care if Maotelus was planning to bond with him or eat him or both. He was going to exact revenge even if it meant sinking into a whirlpool of malevolence. He stepped down the stairs leading into the entry chamber where a statue of Zenrus once stood. Mikleo followed after him, breaking the entrance and walls with his size. Zaveid and Lailah chased after him.

“If you get in my way, I will kill you,” Sorey threatened from the bottom of the stairs. 

He rounded the walls, followed the paths, and kept a trace on the stench until he came to a large door that had been forced open. In front of it lay the mangled body of a woman that looked similar to Muse, Mikleo’s mother. It was a shame that Mikleo wasn’t himself, yet Sorey was glad that he couldn’t recognize the corpse in his form.

They went deeper into the catacombs of the ruins. Symonne had made no effort to confuse him with her illusions so close to their destination in the ruins; why would she? She needed his soul to make Maotelus omnipotent. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight, however, and he had Mikleo by his side.

Soon he came to the ruins of Camlann, the ever-smoldering houses coloring much of the area black. The charred skeletons of the villagers lay everywhere, and Sorey somehow detected those of his mother near the entrance of the village and Shepherd Michael in one of the houses after killing Mikleo.

The dragon moaned, the malevolence poisoning him. He slowed to a stop, collapsing in the middle of the wreckage.

“Mikleo, what’s wrong?” Sorey asked him. “You can feel it, can’t you. She’s here along with the so-called god.” He drew his sword. “Show yourself, wench! I shall slice you open and rip out your insides!”

Zaveid and Lailah braved the passages to Camlann, and when they reached the threshold of the forgotten village, they fell to their knees from fatigue. They heard Sorey demand that Symonne come out repeatedly like a madman while more and more desperately telling Mikleo to fight through the evilness inside and outside of him.

Symonne giggled. Before revealing herself and Maotelus, she whipped The Shepherd’s legs with her wand hard enough to tear his pants and slice his skin. Mikleo struggled to stand and protect him, but he lifted his head in contempt. His alexandrite eyes glared at the fallen seraph and the dragon that was birthed from the most powerful seraph in the world.

“Are you ready to be a sacrifice to Lord Maotelus?” she asked from atop a broken post of one of the houses.

“The only one going to be sacrificed here is you,” Sorey smirked. The bond between him and Mikleo was bolstered by the determination that he had. It caused Mikleo immense pain, but the dragon endured it. Deep inside, Mikleo was prepared to fight alongside him. With a sense of nostalgia, Sorey the Hellion Shepherd asked his beloved dragon:

“Ready, Mikleo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know how JRPGs have forms in the final battle? COMMENCING STAGE 1. (Also semester started again~)


	37. Showdown in Camlann

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey take on Symonne in the first phase of the final battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action scenes are really hard to write, but I think this went over pretty well. The number one problem with action chapters is that they tend to be slightly shorter and it makes me feel inadequate at describing things...

Symonne signaled Maotelus to stay back until he was summoned. She wanted to have fun with Sorey first before he was destroyed by the Great Lord. Sorey, however, wasn’t going to pull any punches, and likewise he ordered Mikleo to take to the skies. He wasn’t going to let her attack him; he belonged to him, and the fallen seraph that had caused so much grief would make a fine meal for his dragon.

“How adorable that you think you can save that worthless seraph,” Symonne cackled. She summoned her clones, lining them up like the front lines of a battalion. “What makes you think that you can control him forever when he’s absorbing all this malevolence around him? You’ve seen what happened to other dragons. You keep him here, and he’ll eventually forget who you are.”

It was true that Sorey didn’t have as strong of a hold on Mikleo as he thought. In fact, he was sincerely hoping that he would remember him so he wouldn’t be forced to kill him. Those pitiful words—“please don’t hesitate to kill me”—echoed in his head, the honest desire to be put out of his misery. Was that it? Did Mikleo want to be killed so he wouldn’t have to suffer for eternity like Eizen or Maotelus? Unlike humans and animals and plants, seraphim were immortal to an extent. It would take centuries, maybe even millennia, for their bodies to deteriorate and decompose from age. Mikleo knew that, so was that the reason he had asked Sorey to kill him if he ever became a dragon?

Lost in his thoughts, Sorey was blindsided and punched side to side by the clones. He guarded against the whaling with his ceremonial sword. He didn’t want to call for help just yet. He couldn’t bring Mikleo down into the middle of the fight because Maotelus would lunge at him faster than he would pluck him from the mob.

“What’s wrong, Shepherd?” Symonne taunted. “Can’t handle a few little girls?”

Sorey wasn’t sure if he could. Twenty against one was unfair contrary to what Symonne had complained about in the past, and he didn’t expect Lailah and Zaveid to come to the rescue due to the malevolence gathering through Camlann. The place was the worst as far as the evilness was concerned, and even though his priority was Mikleo, he didn’t want to endanger the only other friends he had left by foolishly expecting that they would find them.

The only thing he could do, which he hadn’t thought of until now, was the use the malevolence against Symonne. Lailah had never explained what would happen if two opposing forces used the malevolence in its sheerest form against each other. If it produced more malevolence, there was nothing to worry about since Camlann spewed it like a geyser. The only downside would be that he would lose even more of himself, but at this point, it didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

Symonne’s clones punched him in the stomach and held onto his arms so he could swing at them. With no other choice, Sorey steeped himself even farther. Like the malevolent mythril sword that Asura the Shepherd had created long ago that Maltran stole, his blade flared with the wickedness that he had worked so hard to quell.

“Ooh, did you learn a new trick?” Symonne giggled.

A head-splitting jolt of pain zapped through his head, yet he forced himself to work through it. He slashed away a few of the clones that were holding him down, a power which surprisingly sent shivers down Symonne’s back. Such brilliant malevolence drew her in, and she was curious. Heldalf had merely sacrificed his body and soul to it; she’d never seen anyone necessarily wield it save for Asura whom had lost himself completely just after using his weapon. Sorey was different. He still had his sanity.

He took a step forward, again slicing away a number of her clones. In a way it almost looked like Lailah’s Sacred Blade. Perhaps Sorey had imposed on the malevolence he accepted that image to make it easier to use. Symonne was even more interested. She created more clones for him to swat away, wondering if he could change the shape of it according to his strategy.

As it turned out, he could if he focused enough. He morphed the blade into a gauntlet reminiscent of Edna’s Sacred Gauntlet. With it, he pounded the parched ground making towers of the darkness erupt from the earth around him. The daggers he modeled after the Sacred Knife picked the clones off one by one; his arrows wiped out rows of them. But each transformation took a toll on him, and before he knew it, he was ready to collapse. The headache had gotten worse to the point that he was seeing waves and bubbling nausea was building up.

Mikleo, seemingly sensing that his master had reached his limit, joined the fray. He conjured up torrents of water and destroyed the clones around him until only the real Symonne was left on the battlefield.

“M-Mikleo, no! Get back!” Sorey commanded. His headache cut him off, but he had to persevere. He ordered him to get back again, but Mikleo refused to listen.

“Ah, Mikleo really does look like a fine dragon!” Symonne cooed. “Maotelus will surely enjoy eating him and absorbing his malevolence!”

As if that was a signal, the Great White Dragon soared over all of them and landed behind her with his wings almost covering the entirety of Camlann’s ruins. He dwarfed Mikleo both in size and in power.

“Damn it!” Sorey growled. “Mikleo, I said get back!”

Symonne rushed up to Sorey. She kicked him in the side then prepared to stab him with her wand, but he parried her. He couldn’t concentrate on her knowing that Mikleo was in danger. The water dragon roared and hissed, mirrored Maotelus, and once again summoned his strength to spit his torrents. Maotelus simply swiped him with his massive tail.

“Hmm, maybe I should just tie you up so you can watch your little lovesick seraph get gobbled up.”

“I’ll die before I let anything happen to Mikleo.”

“That can be arranged, Lost Shepherd.”

A change in plans, Sorey ordered Mikleo to attack Symonne until he caught and killed her. He thought that Mikleo’s smaller size would allow him better maneuverability, which meant that Maotelus wouldn’t be able to catch him. He then set to work on cornering her so that his dragon could eat her.

Using the malevolence to his advantage again, he made several more daggers. As spritely as Symonne was, he was sure that he could force to exhaust herself then pin her like the bug she was.

“Deceiving Pummel!” Zaveid weakly called out from afar. His chains ripped through the ground towards Symonne, who leapt out of the way. Maotelus was sent to deal with him and Lailah since she didn’t want anyone else interfering with the battle. “Fucking hell. Of course, she sends her dog.”

Lailah followed behind him. “Zaveid, we can’t fight him,” she panted.

“I’m aware of that, but…”

“We’ve got to try, right? Besides, those kids have their hands full with Symonne alone.”

Lailah attacked with her flames until she was forced to take a short break. At that moment, Zaveid tried his best to trap Maotelus with his chains, but the dragon was far too large to be bound by such thin chains.

Meanwhile, Sorey kept throwing his daggers at Symonne while ordering Mikleo to trap her in his torrents. The water dragon obeyed, and Sorey thought he saw something like a smile curl on Mikleo’s lips. Was he happy that they were working together?

“Ugh, this isn’t working like I’d hoped. Maotelus, leave the small fry alone! Get the other dragon!” Symonne barked.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Zaveid said. He whipped his chains and pendulum around Maotelus’s snout. He pulled as hard as he could to keep him from going back to Sorey’s fight. “Your fight’s over here, big guy!” Lailah burned Maotelus repeatedly knowing that her attacks were scratches on his hide. “Just gotta keep it up, Lailah!”

Symonne became preoccupied with Maotelus’s impediment. She decided that she was finally going to kill the two remaining Shepherd’s seraphim just to make things less annoying. Sorey saw his chance, and with his blade shrouded in malevolence, he charged behind her. He ran the ebony blade through her stomach, and a cataclysmic surge of malevolence rushed through him. It wasn’t enough to sunder his soul, but in that moment, his body was almost quartered by it. It dawned on him—if Symonne had that much malevolence in her, then Maotelus’s soul would not only rip him apart but create a catastrophic chain reaction in the depths of the forgotten village and its ruins that would spread like an infection through the Glenwood Continent.

“No, I refuse to die!” Symonne coughed as she looked back at Sorey. “L-Look at you, weakling. You can’t even handle the malevolence you’ve rendered free from my soul. In due time, your entire existence will be naught but a blackhole, destroying all that you love.”

“Mikleo!” Sorey roared. “Feast upon her! Make her pay for what she did to you! To us! To everyone in Elysia!”

Sorey withdrew his blade as Mikleo loomed over her. He watched as the blue scales were stained with red, listened as Symonne’s screams of pain echoed throughout the land, and fell to his knees as the malevolence she wielded was absorbed into both him and Mikleo.

Zaveid half-smirked. “Now that that bitch is dead, we can focus on Daddy Dragon here.” But he was wary of what was to come now that the Great Lord no longer had a master.

Something changed within Maotelus. He whipped his head away from the wind seraph’s grip, heading towards Mikleo as he finished eating the fallen seraph. Sorey peered up, his face contorted in horror. The pearly teeth of the ivory dragon buried themselves into the water dragon’s cerulean back; Sorey could almost hear Mikleo’s bloodcurdling screams in his pitiful roars. He almost saw him clench his body in pain. He almost saw him double over.

Mikleo turned around and snapped at him. For some reason, that alone was enough to scare off Maotelus because he took flight to a large castle north of Camlann that they had learned as a place called Artorius’ Throne in the Celestial Record. Sorey didn’t understand why other than that maybe Maotelus was trying to lure them to the center of the world, but that was something to ponder about later. Right now, Sorey’s heart ached with sorrow.

“Mikleo!” Sorey screamed and cried. “Please, please don’t die! You’ve got to stay alive! We’ve got to get you back to normal and…and live together in peace!” His words cracked.

Zaveid and Lailah tried their best to heal him, but the wound was massive and deep; one of his wings was almost severed, hanging on by a few fibers. Mikleo let out heart-rending moans. Beside himself, unable to think of anything that could help him, Sorey sat with his arms wrapped around his head. He wanted to comfort him, but there was nothing that he could do that could stop the pain.

***

Mikleo panted. Blood pooled around his trembling body, yet the shadowy hands wouldn’t let go of him. They weren’t going to help him—he knew that much. Still, he had a teary smile on his face. In the darkness, he used his magic to make a small snowman that looked like Sorey. This sole creation was enough to make him happy.

“We did it, Sorey,” he could barely whisper. “We finally killed Symonne. We got our revenge. But…why do I feel so cold and empty? Sorey, did I do something wrong again?”

Something that felt like rain kissed his cheeks, but it was warm, and it made him feel sad. The drops fell on his snowman, carving tiny trails into it and ruining its shape.

“S-Sorey…what’s wrong?”

A fainted whisper sounded in the darkness:

“Don’t leave me, my love.”

Mikleo let out a pitiable laugh then reassured, “I won’t, Sorey. I’ll be with you forever.” He reached up with all his strength, wishing that he could pat the brown head that he missed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the game, I kind of wished that someone had killed Symonne. You could argue that she was misguided or hopeless or whatever, but like...she was the cause for so much.


	38. Death of a God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Mikleo too injured to fight, Sorey vows to avenge him. He heads into Artorius' Throne to take on Maotelus alone despite Mikleo's pleas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's another actiony chapter. I'm flattered that I got positive feedback on the last chapter, and even though it's now 2am, I tried to spice this one up a little bit. Action is really hard to write, especially in the wee hours of the morn.
> 
> Songs for inspiration: 残響と白き死神, 智慧たる紫の覚醒 by the circle WAVE (Morrigan), Innocencia by Noriko Mitose, and Rise and Invasion (arranged) by Mitsuhiro Kaneda

Sorey gently stroked Mikleo’s head, but deep inside he was seething with anger and hatred for Maotelus. He was going to make him pay; he didn’t care if he was the most powerful seraph or the deadliest dragon in all the land, he couldn’t forgive anyone that hurt Mikleo. Naturally, Lailah and Zaveid were apprehensive that he was going to chase after him and fight him to death. But that said, how would he fight him without Mikleo’s help? The young dragon wasn’t even able to walk as the pain radiating in his back immobilized him.

“We should focus on Mikleo’s well-being for now,” Lailah quietly told him.

“I _am_ focusing on him!” Sorey growled. “I’m a hellion without healing artes! What am I supposed to do about his wounds?! You’re the one who can heal! I’m just a machine whose only purpose is to slaughter everything in my path!”

“Easy, easy!” Zaveid warned. “We’re all worried about him, but Mickey-Dragon is in really bad shape. If you truly care about him, you’ll stick around and comfort him.”

“I’ll use Maotelus’s power to save him. I’ll free him from this body and restore him to how he was before Symonne hurt him,” Sorey vowed.

The nature that he had acquired since Mikleo’s transformation was perplexing to say the least. Lailah had lectured about how people can be devoid of malevolence, and that was simply when they believed wholeheartedly in their way of doing something regardless of the morality behind it. Sorey was obviously grieving, but he also believed that by killing Maotelus, which would make him the new Lord of Calamity if he succeeded, would fix him. Such a belief, despite being extremely catastrophic, seemed not to garner as much malevolence as one would expect, especially in these circumstances.

All Sorey wanted to do was to help Mikleo by ending the life of those that hurt and tormented him. He wanted to be with him in peace. It was a heartfelt sentiment cloaked in the same evil that had driven Heldalf insane.

Mikleo moaned in pain again, readjusting his head on Sorey’s lap as if to tell him not to go. Although he was a dragon, Lailah could sense that he still loved him and wanted to protect him; perhaps that was why he didn’t want him to leave—because he knew he was in no condition to fight. The gesture touched Sorey’s heart, but still, he had to avenge him. It was something that he was compelled to do.

“Sorey, you mustn’t go!” Lailah also pleaded. “Think about Mikleo! He doesn’t want you to die!”

“Mikleo is injured and a dragon,” Sorey replied. “It doesn’t matter what he wants; he’s not thinking straight anyway with the amount of blood he’s lost. I’m going after Maotelus whether he wants me to or not.”

Zaveid was prepared to stop him by force, but Lailah prevented him because she knew that he was going no matter what was in his way; if he got in front of him, Sorey would no doubt murder him in cold blood. She asked him to instead help her tend to Mikleo’s wound, believing that if they worked together, then Mikleo would be able to stop Sorey…assuming that the dragon did have such an intention.

It was a heartbreaking image, though, to see Mikleo calling for Sorey to come back in pitiful guttural roars while his master headed to where Maotelus was waiting for him deep into the forgotten lands of Camlann. In a way, they could see the poor wretched water seraph bawling after him, arms reaching out for him but his body unable to move. Even as they healed him and he snapped at them for holding him back, they felt sorry for him.

“If only Rose were alive, we’d be able to armatize and heal him faster,” Zaveid sighed. “Rejuvenation artes are stronger than what we can do on our own.”

“As long as we concentrate on him, he’ll be okay,” Lailah reassured. “I don’t want him to give into Sorey’s wishes by joining that battle. If he really does take on Maotelus, especially now that Symonne is dead, I fear that Sorey won’t come back for him. He’ll be the new Lord of Calamity, and it’s very likely that whatever notions Heldalf had will be passed onto him by proxy of that dragon.”

Hearing this, Mikleo pushed himself up away from them. His back was still in tatters, and he didn’t have a lot of energy left, yet he couldn’t bear the thought of Sorey leaving him behind in every sense of the word. He would find him. No matter how pure Sorey used to be or how tainted he was now, he would always find him. Their hearts had been one since the night Mikleo confessed to him, and he would never let him go.

***

Sorey, deep within the castle-like structure that was Artorius’ Throne, glared at Maotelus. The tainted Shepherd was bloodied from his battles with the abnormally vicious hellions that haunted the realm. He had been pierced by all sorts of attacks. His will was the only thing that had brought him that far, and he wasn’t going to back down until he had erased Maotelus from existence.

“I’ve finally cornered you, Maotelus!” he screamed at the White Dragon. “I’ll make you pay for turning Mikleo into one of your kind, for forcing him to continue on in that body, for hurting him so badly that he can’t move!”

The malevolence swirled around in the large room, shattering the floor beneath both of them with sheer force. They fell together into the depths of the earth, and Sorey took that opportunity to attack Maotelus. Bounding off the debris, he spun with his sword towards him. Maotelus effortlessly dodged him.

He was leading him somewhere, Sorey felt it. He chased after him through the darkness underneath the world all the way to the real obsidian throne that seemed to almost channel their malevolence. This was where Maotelus had been sleeping while staying connected to the land as his vessel. This was where he wanted to fight. This was where he was going to kill Sorey and absorb all his malevolence.

“For a dragon, you sure are poetic,” Sorey scoffed. “Let’s end this!”

Sorey sped towards him with his sword drawn and readied to pierce through his heart. Maotelus, however, had other plans. He swatted him aside with such power and velocity that had Sorey remained a regular human with his Shepherd powers and not become a hellion, he would have been splattered across the floor. And he didn’t come out of unscathed. He wheezed, writhing in pain before steeling himself for whatever more was to come.

“Crimson Edge!” Sorey coughed. He tried to zip through Maotelus, but again the dragon whipped him aside. “Crimson Edge…!”

Maotelus sent balls of black fire his way. Sorey guarded against them only barely managing to withstand the heat. The dragon roared again, this time, using Air Pressure to crush Sorey into the floor.

Paralyzed, Sorey coughed up a mouthful’s worth of blood. It felt like his lungs and heart were being flattened against the floor. Suffocation, heart stopping, a combination of the two—any one of those options were going to be as painful as the other two. But he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t let Maotelus get away for almost killing Mikleo.

Sorey used every ounce of strength he had in him to push himself up from the floor, which strained his bones and muscles. When he was completely standing, Maotelus flung him to the side. He hit his head on a piece of debris, and crimson blood trickled from his forehead. He was unconscious, head pounding and limbs throbbing. The sounds of his own breath echoed in his skull. Everything was black save for a tiny light that grew before him.

He dreamt of Mikleo not as child but as he was when they started their journey. He sat with the brunet head on his lap and patted it with his icy hands. He hummed a little tune like he was taking care of a sick little boy. His cool touch was refreshing, and his scent—reminiscent of the pure rain that always fell in Elysia—comforted him.

“I’m coming for you,” he whispered to him.

“Mikleo, don’t,” Sorey moaned.

“He’s too much for you.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“I will protect you.”

“I wanted to save you.”

Sorey woke up feeling the stale air blow through his hair. Maotelus was holding him in front of his face, his eyes, his teeth. Part of the tiny Shepherd feared for the first time in the whole ordeal that he was going to be eaten alive. When Maotelus threw him into the ground so hard that he was within an inch of his life, he finally realized that he had taken on more than he could handle. He mustered up the strength to crawl away only to feel the dragon pin him down with a single claw breaking the skin on his back and almost severing his spine. The pain from the claw spread throughout him. Maotelus was trying to bind to him instead of eating him. Was he planning on destroying him from the inside before feasting on him?

“S-Stop! Stop!” Sorey screamed vehemently. His soul was being pulled apart within the core of his body. “It hurts!”

A bullet of water knocked Maotelus back enough for the beginnings of the bond to break and the claw to lift off of him. Sorey was exhausted, battered, and bloodied; yet he wanted to see with his own eyes what it was that saved him. Tears streamed down his face as he watched his savior touch ground from above.

“Why did you come here?” he whimpered.

Mikleo was still bleeding from the bite Maotelus had taken out of his back, his wing straining. Lailah and Zaveid could be spotted from the edge of the hole in the floor above them. They were getting ready to follow down, but the real fight was about to begin. Sorey waved them away and tried to order his dear dragon to stay back but it was to no avail. Zaveid carried Lailah down while Mikleo gently picked him up but the tail ends of his cloak with his teeth and put him to the side with them. He hissed warningly at Maotelus.

Rushing towards him, Mikleo bit at his neck as hard as he could before the White Dragon latched onto his wing that was hanging by a sinew or two. He tore it off, but Mikleo pushed through it. He clamped even harder on the neck. If Maotelus tried to get away, he would have to risk bleeding out from the wound that would result from it.

“Deceiving Pummel!” Zaveid called out.

His chains sprang from the floor around Maotelus just as he clawed Mikleo’s neck and stepped on his head. He cursed himself but nonetheless was proud he caught the dragon in his web. Lailah sent her fires along his chains, scorching him before Maotelus had a chance to break free.

“Sorey, now!” Lailah shouted. “While he’s weak!”

“Shatterfang!” Sorey cried out as he ran towards the bound White Dragon that had threatened his love, destroyed his home, and taken away everything he cherished. He was going to have retribution, but even when Maotelus was dead, he thought, it wouldn’t undo all of the damage that had been done. It wouldn’t reverse what Mikleo had done. It wouldn’t erase the anxieties that Sorey had developed. As he stabbed Maotelus through his diamond-hard skull, snapping the blade inside and absorbing all the malevolence he had within him, he let out an agonizing scream that shook Zaveid and Lailah’s hearts. “With this, I have my revenge!” he screamed at the crumbling giant’s corpse. He leapt off the white head onto the ground stumbling for only a moment before dashing to his dragon’s side. “Mikleo! Mikleo, I’m coming!”

Sorey threw aside the handle of his sword. Stripping off the cloak to use as a cloth to stop his bleeding, he kissed him and told him that they had won and that everything would be okay. Lailah and Zaveid once again tried to heal his wounds, but nothing was working. Mikleo’s breathing was labored.

Sorey hugged his head. “Mikleo, please don’t go,” he begged him. “I love you! Everything’s going to be okay now, so don’t go.”

“Sorey—”

Zaveid put his hand on Lailah’s shoulder after she uttered his name. He tipped his hat down in a vain attempt to hide his tears.

“Mikleo, please don’t go. I promise I won’t run away from you again. We can do whatever you want. I just want to see your face again. I want to eat ice cream and explore ruins and read the Celestial Record with you again!”

Mikleo was coming to the end of his rope. He wished he could have held him in his arms, but he detested his body. He wondered if there really was any way for a dragon to return to their former self. When a hellion became as strong as a dragon, the Shepherd wouldn’t be able to purify them and death would be their salvation, yet he wasn’t ready to die. How could he die when everything they had fought for had just come to them now? What was to become of the Glenwood Continent now that Maotelus was dead? What was Sorey going to do, alone in the world as the strongest living hellion? He didn’t want to leave him, but he feared that his time to make a phantom of a choice was waning faster than he imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kind of fun thinking of Mikleo in two forms--as a dragon and as his normal self. I like to think that his sanity is best represented by the unconditional love he has for Sorey (even if Sorey kind of just left him to go fight a death match with Maotelus). 
> 
> Also got my copy of Berseria, but it's at home and I haven't gotten to play it D: I wanna see Eizen!


	39. Seraphic Savior from the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maotelus is dead, and Mikleo is slowly losing his grip on life. Distraught that the dragon will leave him alone, Sorey prepares to sacrifice himself for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where all that the game told us about malevolence gets tossed out the window! Maybe not. It's strange how it works, but I'm using that freedom for my own gain. Song of Inspiration: Ricordando Il Passato by Akiko Shikata (looks at the English translation).
> 
> (For the sake of avoiding confusion, there are two perceived forms of Mikleo, but only one physical Mikleo.)

Lailah silently wept for Sorey not only because he was losing the one person he loved but because he had to watch him suffer before death embraced him. The idea of dying to a seraph as old as her wasn’t a new one, but it wasn’t pleasant either. When someone dies, they cease to exist in a material sense; how they feel to the touch, sound to the ears, appear to the eyes—everything about the deceased disappears only to arbitrarily live on in the memories of those still alive to think about them. Sorey absolutely wouldn’t forget Mikleo, but not having him by his side made it pointless to continue living. Mikleo was a dragon, so it wasn’t like he would reappear in his seraphic existence after passing. His life was _ending_.

“There has to be something that I can do,” Sorey sobbed to no one in particular, but it seemed like he was asking Mikleo himself. “What can I do? Please, tell me what I can do to save him.”  
Mikleo’s moans were progressively becoming quieter.

“If we knew how to save dragons, we’d tell you,” Zaveid said. His voice bit from the frustration he’d bottled up since the transformation. As much as he had always preached that death was salvation for dragons and severely corrupted individuals, he couldn’t accept it anymore nor push such an idea onto the same person that had vowed to find a way to save them. “The only thing I can think of is absorbing the malevolence, but would it really work? You’ve absorbed enough to destroy the world from Maotelus alone that I doubt your body would be able to withstand all that Mikleo has to offer.”

Sorey looked back at Zaveid. For once, he didn’t look like a demon. He looked like a lost child clinging to his dog that had been hurt by hunters or a bear. The pathetic and hopeless look in his eyes crushed the wind seraph’s heart, but nothing he could say would heal the scars of his journey.

“Even if my body perishes, I’m willing to do it to save him!” Sorey vehemently told him.

“But what about your soul—the very core of your existence?” Lailah asked him. “If you absorb his malevolence, not only is there no guarantee that he will be saved but you will risk taking in too much, and who knows what could happen then?”

Sorey’s face softened. Even after all that had happened, Zaveid and Lailah didn’t want to let go of him. Even if he was _now_ the Lord of Calamity after killing Heldalf and Maotelus and embodying more malevolence than both of them combined, they couldn’t bear to listen to him resign to a fate of eternal suffering as a phantom hellion. It both made him happy and broke his heart.

“Lailah, Zaveid…I’m so sorry for everything,” he apologized sincerely.

“Sorey, don’t say that,” Lailah choked as she restrained herself.

“Mikleo apologized to me for what he had done even though he knew it wouldn’t change anything as far as how tainted he had become. I may still have that chance. Allow me to apologize for what I’ve done.”

“You haven’t done much of anything wrong! You and Mikleo were only trying to carry out your own wishes! You believe in your ideology, and when someone believes…the malevolence shouldn’t be so hurtful…”

“When Mikleo turned into a dragon, I cast both of you aside even though you were concerned about me. I threatened to kill you even though you came running to help us. I fought against Symonne and Maotelus, killing both of them even though you didn’t want me to. I’ve defied everything you said up to now because of my love for Mikleo, and I’m sorry that I have to defy you again. You really wanted to protect me while knowing that what we have done together ruined humanity.”

Zaveid grabbed Sorey’s shoulders despite the pain that shot through his hands into his chest, frantically telling him, “You don’t have to do this! Mikleo won’t last much longer; you won’t be able to handle anymore malevolence if you try to absorb it!”

“We won’t know until we try, right?” Sorey let out a piteous chuckle. “Zaveid, what happened to your sense of adventure?”

“This is different!”

The tainted yet remorseful Shepherd gently removed his wind seraph’s hands from his shoulders. Returning to Mikleo’s side while the dragon’s shallow breaths rumbled in his weakening body, he draped himself over his head. Mikleo let out whimpers, but Sorey shushed him. Stroking his snout, he whispered a prayer that had burned fervently in his heart since the beginning.

There was no evidence that a simple prayer would save Mikleo or the world. It had never been done, and as much as he wanted to save Eizen and Edna back then, he never got the chance. With Mikleo beside him now albeit on the verge of death, he was going to try at the cost of his life. He asked any seraphim that had the power to grant his wish that they forgive their transgressions. He asked that, if they were going to do anything, that they save Mikleo.

Lailah and Zaveid watched him with some hope that his wish would be granted. When they noticed that Zenrus and a couple of his followers had entered through the poisoned land of Camlann to Artorius’ Throne to the area underneath, they wondered for what reason they would be there. It dawned on them that Zenrus was finely tuned into Sorey and Mikleo’s presences.

Zenrus, more powerful than Lailah and whose blessing had been reestablished for the time being while things calmed down, was capable of answering Sorey’s prayer, but because Sorey was so tainted, would he have the power to grant it?

“My children, I’m sorry you have to be the victims of such a sorry fate,” the old lightning seraph soothingly said, but Sorey was concentrating so hard that he didn’t notice him. “My intention was to raise you as the Shepherd and a Sub-Lord. We follow our destinies, but we still have control on aspects of our lives. Poor children, this was neither destiny nor your own doing. It was the cruelty of the world and those that took advantage of the kindness fostered in your hearts. The love that you have for each other is pure and just, and it’s a shame that it was manipulated like this and caused you suffering of this magnitude. I do not possess the power of purification, therefore I am not sure if I have the power to save Mikleo as he now nor do I think I can prevent your soul from becoming the basis of a phantom.” He turned to his followers with a look of acceptance then turned back to the grieving Shepherd. “There is no way of knowing what will happen, but should something happen to me, work together to preserve Elysia. You may be tainted now, but I still believe that, in time, you can save the world.”

Zenrus stretched out his arms and channeled his strength. He focused on Sorey’s prayer, on Mikleo as the catalyst for carrying it out, and on the energy of their pure love. He braced himself, for attempting to quell the amount of malevolence in the water seraph’s heart was life-threatening, if not fatal. At the very least, he could free him from the curse of the dragon’s materialized form and the apparent immortality that came with becoming a hellion.

Meanwhile, Sorey prepared to absorb the malevolence that would be disconnected from him. Now aware that Zenrus was there and trying to help and Lailah and Zaveid providing support with healing artes on his shredding hands, he was ready to do one last thing to heal the world.

The malevolence rose in thin lines of black steam from the scaly surface of Mikleo’s body. It was searing hot, and it punched Sorey repeatedly in the stomach. He endured it as he felt Mikleo’s quiet and tired little light shine through the darkness that burned more and more intensely in the depths of his soul. He let out little sobs of pain but continued to hold on. Mikleo roared, the malevolence being torn from him like film; Sorey hugged him as tightly around his head as he could.

While he was being freed from the prison of his sins, Sorey opened his eyes to find in his arms the soft white-to-blue hair and the supple cheeks of the small child that had been locked away so long ago. His amethyst eyes glistened with tears. His tiny mouth gave a warm smile.

“Mikleo, did we save you?” he gently asked him as he kissed his decorated forehead.

Pulses of malevolence reverberated from Mikleo’s body. His draconic form started to dissipate, revealing his original form. Sorey hugged him as tight as he could with his chest pressing against his as if to resuscitate him with his heartbeat. But Mikleo was unresponsive. He wasn’t dead per say; he was in a deep sleep brought on by the severity of the wickedness that had dwelled inside of him since he fell. His thin body had reached its limit some time ago, and recuperation would take as much time as it needed energy. As the malevolence cleared away, Mikleo and Sorey lay together. The water seraph had no wounds from his battles with Maotelus. They had survived but…

The prayer had been answered with a tremendous cost. Zenrus had faded away to nothingness after pouring all his being into granting the wish of saving his children. Lailah and Zaveid silently cried bittersweet tears, but they knew that the lightning seraph had wanted this. They believed in his finals words that the power to rebuild would rest in them.  
Sorey hovered over Mikleo, cupping his cheeks and taking in the sight of his face and body after seeing him as dragon. He listened to his chest where his heart beat quietly within.

“Lord Zenrus managed to purify him?” one of the seraph followers whispered.

“How when he doesn’t have that power?” the other said.

“Sorey’s love saved him,” Lailah answered. “But whether or not Mikleo will survive is a different matter.”

Zaveid pointed to them. They all watched as Sorey treated the water seraph with fatherly care as opposed to the care of a lover. There was nothing different about Mikleo, but to the Shepherd who had taken on the burden of all the malevolence they had shared, he was the small child that had persevered in the deepest part of him away from the darkness. He was a child of the innocent hope that Sorey wanted to protect.

“Lailah, Zaveid, Gramps, thank you for everything,” Sorey told them while holding the sleeping Mikleo in his arms.

“What are you going to do now?” Zaveid asked him. He glanced at the Mikleo he knew and occasionally teased in his arms.

“I’m going to seal us away. The malevolence in me is too great to run free, so it must be done. But I don’t know how we can restore the blessing for the entire Glenwood Continent, and Mikleo isn’t strong enough now.”

“Perhaps we can have all the seraphim work together to support a blessing, and when you two are ready, you can help us,” Lailah suggested with tears in her eyes.

Sorey agreed. He looked deathly tired. Things had turned out vastly different from when Michael was the Shepherd, and the fire seraph was glad. But she wasn’t happy with herself for letting the Shepherd once again sacrifice his life after she drilled into him that his burdens were not only his alone.

“We’ll sleep for now, and maybe the malevolence can be quelled by other Shepherds,” Sorey said, his exhaustion showing in his voice. “I may be the Lord of Calamity, but if I voluntarily seal my power away, maybe things can calm down. I…I also want to let Mikleo get rest. So many things happened to him that he deserves it, you know?”

“I understand. We’ll work hard until you wake up,” Lailah said despite wanting Sorey to return to the surface with them to show that he was still alive.

Sorey looked down at the tiny Mikleo in his arms. He had to protect him. It didn’t seem like a good idea to seal him away with the Lord of Calamity, but he vowed to keep the malevolence away from him. He had influence on where he could direct the malevolence; diverting it away from the child would probably work. He had to try.

***

As he took his leave deeper into the land underneath Artorius’ Throne, he thought up all different ways to make Lailah and Zaveid’s job easier. Channel the malevolence into him and release it slowly, seal Mikleo away by himself to preserve his purity, divert the malevolence away from him with both of them sealed together—he was willing to try anything. When he was satisfied where he had gotten, far away from the world of humans and seraphim, Sorey decided that the third option was probably the best next to channeling the malevolence. He didn’t know what would happen if he channeled too much malevolence, but it couldn’t be worse than how it was now.

“Mikleo, I’m sorry that I’m keeping you with me,” Sorey said. “I promise, the malevolence inside me that I’ve absorbed from Heldalf, Maotelus, and you won’t touch you. I’ll protect you, and maybe when we wake up, we can live happily together in a world were suffering isn’t a staple in life. Lailah and the others will work for everyone’s happiness while we’re sleeping. When we wake up, we’ll go together and look for a new seraph that can give the continent the blessing Maotelus gave. Or…do you think you could do it? Don’t you think it’d be poetic? If I’m the Lord of Calamity and you’re the new Great Lord and…”

Sorey sank to his knees while hugging Mikleo. It hurt him to place such a burden on the one he loved only to exist in complete opposition from him. He wanted to live at his side. How could he stop being the Lord of Calamity? How could he be with Mikleo? How could he suggest that Mikleo take the place of the one who tried to kill them?

The child touched Sorey’s head. “Sorey, you worry too much,” he giggled. “Just get some rest with him, and then you can think about what to do when you wake up. It doesn’t have to be when you first open your eyes. All that matters right now is helping your friends to quell the malevolence that haunts the world.”

Sorey conceded. His primary goal was to tend to Mikleo. Using his knowledge of the ancient tongue, he recited an old incantation then focused on the malevolence coursing through his body. He carefully held Mikleo close to him, closed his eyes, and allowed the spell to cocoon them within a dark crystal where the malevolence was stored yet still tethered to his heart. Before the crystal completely solidified, he took hold of Mikleo’s hand and pressed his forehead against his forehead. As sleep overcame him and he intertwined their fingers, Sorey whispered to him:

“Good night, Mikleo. See you when we wake up.”

A single tear rolled from Mikleo’s closed eye soon after. The child in him who was relieved that he was saved vanished, returning to his home within his physical body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So technically the story ends here, but I am a fan of epilogues. Therefore, the next chapter is an epilogue. I really don't want this to be over, but I do have other story ideas that I want to do...


	40. Apotheosis:  Their Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOOOOOOO I'M SO SAD THAT IT'S ENDING. I'M NOT READY. Also, hey, I'm back from my conference!
> 
> (Songs of Inspiration: Anything and everything from Aether and Enzalla--ambient and downtempo music)

Over the next 1000 years, Lailah and Zaveid scoured the land for potential Shepherds in Lohgrin. Lailah instated them in droves. She made them promise to work together and to never lose hope. She taught them about Sorey and what had happened to him and his sacrifice. It wasn’t meant to scare them as much as to inform them that they were still vulnerable to the malevolence. When she was asked if Sorey was the Lord of Calamity, she answered that he was. When they asked if they should eradicate him, she begged them not to.

“Sorey is helping us,” she said. “He may be the Lord of Calamity, but he has no intention of destroying the world. He’s already lost so much, and he was given a second chance. Right now, he’s a spigot controlling the amount of malevolence that is released so that we are not overwhelmed and lost to it. I believe that this was his solution to reduce the amount of evil in the world. It seems that a moderate amount of malevolence is released in periodic bursts. As we work together to reduce it, please love each other and foster friendship. With love and happiness, we can purify the world and reestablish the blanket blessing that the Great Lord Maotelus once placed over the continent.”

She rallied the new Shepherds every day, and the remaining seraphim in the world vowed to help them achieve Sorey’s goal. During those years, the heavy atmosphere brought on by the malevolence got lighter and lighter until she decided that it was time to check on Sorey and Mikleo.

Lailah had taken residence in the Ladylake Church again after the city was rebuilt over a century or two. Things had deteriorated, but she kept a small memorial within the church where she remembered Edna, Dezel, Rose, Alisha, and Sergei. She didn’t want to forget them.

“Lailah, are you ready?” Zaveid asked from the rafters suddenly. He dropped down from them with the same coolness he always tried to muster. The hat he had received from Dezel had tears and nicks, which caused him to eventually put it with the memorial. It had been added a few hundred years earlier. Even then, he still wished he could have worn it without it getting torn up. “We can really go anytime we want, but, you know, a thousand years is a long time.”

“We promised to visit after we noticed that the malevolence was noticeably less,” Lailah replied.

“I guess. We did say we wanted to, and it’s time to go. Imagine if we get there and they wake up. Think they’ll be happy to see us?”

“Of course, they will! And I’ll be happy to see them! It’ll be like a family reunion!”

“Yet you didn’t say ‘we’.”

Lailah ushered Zaveid outside of the church without another word on the subject. The trek to Camlann would take less than a day with the speed of the wind, which made them a little more anxious but gave them little time to worry about meeting their friends after so long. Still, while they were confident that Sorey and Mikleo were helping them and in good health, there was a tinge of fear that the thousand years had been wasted. What if Sorey hadn’t gotten rid of most of the malevolence? What if Mikleo didn’t survive? They walked through the Aroundight Forest, and Zaveid tried to grant her some hope that everything was okay.

“I’m sorry,” Lailah told him. “I guess I’m still shaken by everything that’s happened.”

“Relax. Worst that can happen is that he’s actually evil like Heldalf, and that’s got a pretty slim chance of happening.”

The village of Elysia was thriving as ever. The seraphim that Zenrus has worked so hard to protect were going about their daily lives as if nothing had ever changed. The only thing different was a small stone statue depicting Sorey and Mikleo created by seraphic artes. It was clean and decorated with flowers that bloomed within the village.

Natalie and Lawrence stood up from the flowers upon finding Lailah and Zaveid at the threshold of their home. They welcomed them to the statue, which they prided themselves in making. It was to be a gift to them when they woke up, a heartfelt gesture that helped the fire seraph to feel better about the champion she chose a millennium ago.

Another statue dedicated to Zenrus stood on the cliff next to his house, and there were several bundles of flowers left on it. The Elysian seraphim no doubt missed him, and the fact that he was overlooking the cliff suggested that they still believed he was watching out for them. His blessing had disappeared after he passed away, and the village was left unprotected, but because the malevolence had been on the decline, there wasn’t much to worry about.

“I take it you’re going to check up on them?” Cynthia asked when the seraphim prepared to see them off. “If they’re awake, please tell them to come home. We have all sorts of food ready for Sorey, and we’d like to present Mikleo with Zenrus’s pipe as a keepsake.”

Zaveid promised they would since Lailah looked like she was ready to break down again. As they said their goodbyes and headed towards the Mabinogio Ruins, Lailah pouted. She wasn’t going to cry out of sadness anymore; she was happy that their friends’ guardians were anticipating their return with gifts. Naturally, the wind seraph apologized for upstaging her, but it was neither here nor there.

They walked through the ruins and out to the wreckage of Camlann. Much to their surprise, the malevolence was almost nonexistent in the area. Tiny flowers were beginning to sprout around the debris from when Heldalf had ravaged the village. The bodies of those killed had long decomposed and been reduced to dust, yet the places they had been were where the taller sprouts stood.

They ventured deeper into the legendary land to Artorius’ Throne, which had fallen into disrepair with the malevolence disappearing and removing the immortality that it granted to everything it touched. It was somewhat unsettling to see.

“He really did a good job here,” Zaveid praised. “I’ll be surprised if after another few hundred years he’s managed to completely erase it.”

“Would his body be able to hold out?” Lailah asked.

Zaveid was silent, a question forming in his silver-to-green head. “Do you think…?” he started but quickly went quiet again.

The crater that Maotelus had made that led into the depths of the earth beneath them was still there. The hole had grown as a result of age, but again there was no malevolence. In fact, it felt as though there was a sense of purity. Sorey’s resonance was definitely noticeable, a strange occurrence considering that he was still supposed to be the Lord of Calamity.

“I don’t understand, the level of malevolence has decreased substantially, but it isn’t all gone yet on the surface,” Lailah said.

“Could it be that this was all a way to purify himself?” Zaveid hypothesized.

“How strange, but since each new Shepherd has the ability to purify, and Sorey has been releasing the malevolence in bursts while not generating anymore himself by sealing himself away, it’s plausible. The only way we garner malevolence is from those who are overtaken by sin among humans.”

Lailah and Zaveid hurried to the crystal that housed their friends.

The large crystal, which was colored black by the malevolence Sorey exuded when he first sealed himself away, was transparent. Wisps of crystallized light were at the bottom, and it had the appearance of white quartz. His face was peaceful yet there was an underlying indication of suffering, but there was something else remarkable within the crystal.

Mikleo had aged somewhat. His hair was long and thick. His face and body were mature and angled. He was holding Sorey close with one arm, his lips hovering close to Sorey’s jaw. His hand, which had been complacently held by Sorey, was cradling his lover’s face. His clothes were severely damaged.

Sorey had aged as well. Like Mikleo, his chestnut brown hair was long and thick, but the ends of it were silver. His clothes were in tatters, as if they had burned some within the crystal. His hands were clenched over his chest where his heart was seated. He had a faint line of red on his lip as if he had bitten himself.

Lailah and Zaveid were baffled yet overjoyed. They approached the crystal for a better look at their friends. The fire seraph lightly touched it, which began to shine too intensely for them to keep watch of them. They shielded their eyes from the radiant beauty of the precious light. The crystal began to dissolve before them into specks. Before long, Sorey and Mikleo gently fell towards the ground, the latter unconsciously pulling the other closer to him. Their breaths were in sync with each other.

Mikleo woke first. He was disoriented, but after a few moments, he began to remember what had happened 1000 years ago. He remembered the atrocities he committed, the night that Sorey forgave him, the moment that he became a dragon, the millennium they spent together in each other’s company, and the time that Sorey’s body couldn’t handle the stress from the malevolence anymore.

“Lailah? Zaveid?” he softly spoke. “You came back for us.”

He looked down at the man underneath him. His anguished face had softened since he last remembered seeing it in his dreams. His slender fingers brushed his cheek longingly.

“Mikleo, what happened?” Zaveid asked him. “To Sorey, I mean.”

Mikleo’s amethyst eyes flicked from Sorey’s face to Zaveid and Lailah back to Sorey’s face. He softly said, “Sorey decided to release the malevolence in manageable waves so life on the surface could recover while still having a chance to lessen it. After some time of stopping and allowing the flow of the evilness from his heart, he began to feel sick. He got worse with each wave until his heart gave out. He was in so much pain, and I heard him whimpering. I wanted to hold him and tell him it was okay and that I was with him. I’ve never seen him so scared of death; he was afraid we would be separated.”

“But he turned into a seraph,” Lailah observed.

“I think because the malevolence had essentially become his life force, the erasure of it was killing him. But he was a Shepherd, and he never meant to do so much harm. He never believed in hurting others.”

“And his pure heart saved him in the end,” Zaveid finished. “To think it came full circle in a way.”

Mikleo kissed his forehead as he slept. “He wished for us to stay together, and he got it. Gramps…Gramps made his wish come true.” He smiled up at them with tears welling.

It was a mystery how Sorey had really become a seraph after being the Lord of Calamity. Historians later would attempt to figure out how it was possible for their own enjoyment, but nevertheless, he was given his second chance as Zaveid and Lailah had always said.

“All that’s left is to figure out his affinity!” Lailah said happily.

By the color of the ends of his hair, Zaveid proposed that he was a seraph with no particular affinity. It made sense to him because Sorey had embodied each element in his soul. Lailah thought he would have become a water seraph given his deep love for his seraph. Mikleo thought he would have become a lightning seraph so he could replace Gramps. It was a unanimous decision that he was much more powerful than Zenrus considering he had taken down Maotelus and absorbed his malevolence. This power, however, sank Mikleo’s heart. If he was someone like Maotelus, would that mean he was to remain deep within the earth? He wanted to stay with him.

Sorey began to rouse under him. He coughed a little, his emerald eyes opening to meet the violet orbs that he yearned to see.

“Mikleo?” he whispered partly from the lack of air. “Mikleo, is that really you?”

Lailah couldn’t help but smile and Zaveid smirked as their friends, after one thousand years, were reunited. They showered each other in tears and kisses. Eventually they pushed themselves up, wrapping each other in their arms. Mikleo smelled like a fresh rain while Sorey smelled like a field of sunflowers on a warm day. They reveled in each other’s presence, happy that they could finally be together. They couldn’t stop crying for each other.

“Alright, alright, kids,” Zaveid said after a while of watching them delight in each other’s sights. “You can go on your honeymoon after we get back to the surface and reestablish the continent’s blessing.”

Sorey turned to him. “But we don’t have a new Great Lord yet,” he mumbled.

“I think we do. Who better to protect the land than the very one who killed Maotelus the Great Lord of Calamity? Sorey, if you haven’t noticed, you’re perfect for the job!”

“Now, Zaveid, you shouldn’t pressure him,” Lailah chastised. “He just woke up. Though, I have to agree. Sorey, there’s no other seraph we know that has done all you have done or has no specific affinity anymore.”

Mikleo pouted as he leaned his head on his seraphic lover’s shoulder. He knew that there had to be a new Great Lord, but he wasn’t excited that they chose Sorey. Even so, he was willing to go where he went. If he had to stay underground and fuel the blessing, he would stay right beside him to keep him company.

Sorey thought about it, and it was rather difficult to argue against them. His determined and dutiful emerald eyes shined as he declared:

“I shall become the next Great Lord. I will protect everyone and ensure that humans and seraphim can coexist…on one condition.”

Sorey turned to Mikleo. He took his hand into his hand.

“I want to live up there with Mikleo. I have no doubt that as Gramps’ son he will lead Elysia to prosperity in this new era. I want to be there to see him succeed.”

Mikleo blushed deeply. He also made a request. He wanted Sorey to live with him in Elysia so they could make up for the time they lost as fallen beings. There was nothing in scripture that said they couldn’t or that the Great Lord had to stay at the center of the earth, and they knew that it would be beneficial for everyone if they were allowed their happiness. The deal was made.

Nights later, Sorey claimed his official position as the Great Lord and Mikleo became the village chief of Elysia. Lailah returned to Ladylake as people and seraphim worked together to rebuild all of the cities and villages that had been lost to the malevolence. Zaveid journeyed to the Rayfalke Spiritcrest, where he kept his promise to Eizen. No one knows how, but he killed the dragon, stating that a brother and sister had to be reunited. After that, he returned to Ladylake every once in a while to check on Lailah and popped into Elysia to visit Mikleo and Sorey, whom were officiated not long after they returned. Under the new Great Lord and village chief, Elysia became both a sanctuary to seraphim, a place of redemption for humans, and the focus of the blanket blessing.

Sorey and Mikleo, specifically, worked to make sure that the Age of Chaos and the Age of Havoc never happened again. They vowed on their lives and the love they had for each other that the world would be safe. Hellions were few and scarce, and regular wildlife was coming back. Any stray monsters that ended up in Mikleo’s domain were quickly purified by Sorey.

One night decades later when they were getting ready to go to sleep, they lay together on the bed in Sorey’s house. They didn’t say anything explicitly; they gazed into each other’s eyes. They weren’t proud of what they had done in the past, but they were steadfast in their belief and duty. They were going to make sure nothing bad ever happened to their friends and family, and they were going to make their friends, wherever they were, proud of them. They shared a chaste kiss and draped their arms around each other.

“It’s long overdue,” Sorey said lovingly to him.

“What is?” Mikleo questioned.

“I love you, and I’m proud of you.”

“S-Sorey, you’ve said this so many times—n-not that that’s bad.”

Mikleo sat up with a confused look. Sorey’s arm slid down his side.

“I know, but I haven’t said it today!”

The water seraph threw his pillow at his lover’s face before collapsing beside him again. His face looked like it was wondering something. He asked, “Do you think it’s scandalous that a village chief and the Great Lord are together?”

Sorey didn’t think so. Even if it was, he wouldn’t care. He loved Mikleo dearly. He scooted closer to him so he could kiss the circlet around his forehead then his cool cheek. Taking his hand, he simply told him:

“We’ll always be together, no matter what.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that wraps up that. I have another idea for a long Zestiria fic, and my trip to the conference proved bountiful. In the mean time, I have to think up another Tainted!AU because I really like Tainted!AU. I hope you enjoyed this story and you can always subscribe to me to get more stuff!


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